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#a whole year of puppy antics
wroteclassicaly · 2 years
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She’s Trouble
(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)
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Summary: Tired of trailing behind, feeling like you don’t matter much, you decide that 86’ isn’t only going to be your bestfriend’s year.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Word count: 16,185
Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of drug usage, blood, NSFW, smut, drinking, Eddie is angry and sad in this, masturbation, slight voyeurism, breeding kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, angry sex, creampie, angst, fighting, rough sex, Dom!Eddie, and MORE!
A/N: I started writing this based off the scene of Eddie smirking at the cheerleaders he lets by after his cafeteria speech. And, well… it’s spawned itself a new life and turned into a whole lot more than I planned. But so is the life of an author, am I right? ;) Eddie is a dick in this, Reader is a lot more vocal than I’ve written before. I wanted to do something a bit different and I hope this accomplishes my mission?
I wanna thank @littledemondani for helping me out of my brain fart on which direction to take this! Also, do check out her masterlist, which is pinned at the top of her blog (it won’t let me link it here). She’s an incredible author and a fellow Eddie Munson slut, and one of my longtime best-friends! ♥️
Side note: I’ve also shifted a few things in the timeline of the show, for obvious reasons. The whole Eddie/Chrissy thing doesn’t happen on the same night as in the series. Chrissy and the reader have a good interaction and Eddie is a dickhead, but his reasoning will be explained. Also, while the reader is wearing a bustier top, this is an all inclusive fic, where the reader can be anything you imagine! I believe anyone can wear anything that they choose to—regardless of their size, so don’t let that bit of the story deter your perception, as I’ve left it open-ended! ;)
Enjoy! I’ve got a lot coming up soon! Part twos of multiple fics, prompts, plus other goodies! <3 - Kristen
~*~
You watch the way that he tries to be cute and coy towards them, attempts to impress with a dramatic wave through of his hand. Short skirts, tight little tops, bouncing ponytails, and a shitload of generic gossip on their painted lips—they pass by, everything included but those damned pom poms. Apparently they are giddy at his little show of calling out every group but your own in the cafeteria. Your eyes roll so hard that you feel a protesting sting, ignoring it to stab your fork into whatever creation is wiggling on your lunch tray. All the guys—freshman to seniors, and you—the only girl since founding, and Hellfire Club’s treasurer/manager to Corroded Coffin—make up the outsider table.
This year, however, you’ve felt so fucking off base with this group and their antics that you’re getting exhausted pretending to care about their shit when they don’t respect you or yours. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are always the sweetest to you, even with Lucas joining a sport, he’s still quick to always give you a smile and a nod whenever you pass him in the halls. They’re young, unlike Eddie and the older guys. You’re finally a senior this year, but still behind your bestfriend by a year in age. All this used to be okay, Eddie multiplying how much he repeats the grade, you trailing behind him like a lost puppy without any brain of her own, but now—it’s unbearably smothering.
And thus, it’s been building. You’re over bringing chips that are from your personal stash and using your gas to go buy smokes with your small work paycheck, or clean equipment for Eddie’s band, or stay up all night just to design campaign posters for Eddie, only for him to be so fucking stoned that he doesn’t even appreciate it, nor remember it.
“Fucking fake losers,” Jeff mutters.
“So fake,” Gareth agrees, both looking towards Eddie as he settles himself back down, wiggling his brows at you.
It’s an unsettling pressure that boils inside you, crackling, and as soon as you look into your best-friend’s brown doe eyes—it all comes apart. “You wanna talk about fake?” Your chest pumps a rush of adrenaline, helping careen the words off your tongue before you can stop them. Everyone’s attention snaps quicker than you’re prepared for, eyes wide and shocked. Sure, you’re vocal and sassy, but never outwardly angry. “The fact that all of you will condemn the basketball players, but would give up any of your seats at our table for one of the bitches in a skirt that they chase, if they popped their gum or batted an eyelash. You’d all be a bunch of drooling, little horndogs.” You can feel your heart racing with each pronunciation of a word, rising from your seat, knuckles white from gripping the edges of your yellow tray so hard.
You hear Dustin whisper a ‘whoa’, but your vocal vomit doesn’t stop.
“Frankly? I’m fucking sick of all this.” You pick the tray up and slam it down for good measure, unwrapping your messenger bag from around your seat, and you leave the table of gaping young men behind you, not even indulging yourself in Eddie’s bugged out, concerned stare.
You don’t even have time to throw your bag across your chest, when Jason Carver shouts out from behind you, “Damn, look at Munson’s slut go!”
It seems your group aren’t the only ones taking an interest in your outburst. Your breath is engorged in jagged pants of pitiful air, a fire coursing through you faster than you can handle, your skin singing, prickling with goosebumps. Your cheeks redden in humiliation, your feet swiveling and carrying you, fast and quick to their table, you throw your bag off, body like some damned slow motion track. Everyone notices Eddie’s antics, but you’ve never garnered any attention. It’s a surreal high.
Your combat boots click across the cement flooring, your hair like a dead weight across your back. Carver and his entire group are expectant, chairs scraping across to get out of your way. It’s all such a blur that you don’t even know your fist has collided with Jason’s face until you feel the pressure bite into your knuckles, a crunch beneath your force. He shrieks, his friends jumping to his aid, your stance shifting, ready to take anyone on. Your ears are bubbling with a murky static, applause in some direction, shouts in others.
Your name is being shouted from two different directions, the one you see stomping angrily towards you belonging to principal Higgins. He’s calling for help, shoving his finger in your face, motioning to your shirt. “This Hellfire Club does nothing but cause trouble!”
You snort, completely coming off your hinges, shaking the ends of your shirt, before stepping back and flinging it over your head, leaving you clad in your jeans and a leather bustier top no one could ever picture you owning. You’ve always kept your shit to a minimum to draw less attention, but you liked the support it provided your breasts with. You spin around, hands in the air, using the shirt as a lasso, tossing it at your old table. You begin to giggle, honestly wondering if you should visit the school nurse, but uncaring. Higgins is literally sputtering, making you snort, waving a hand. “I’m a slut, I’m trouble. Anyone have anything else to add? No? Yes?”
You bend back over to snatch your nap sack up, motioning to Higgins. “Lead the way to your office, Sir! Please fucking do.”
The pep in your step as your principal is angrily leading you from the masses is such a euphoric feeling, you’re sure you’ll never feel again in your life. You can taste the drama on your tongue’s tip. You don’t even spare your friends a glance, not wanting Eddie to have a morsel of satisfaction. This is your moment. Not as Eddie Munson’s best-friend, not as his groupie. As Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.
~*~
Eddie Munson has been clutching your discarded Hellfire shirt, doused in your perfume that is brimming his nostrils full, damn near trembling for the past twenty minutes that finish up lunch. He can’t move, that swelling between his legs keeping him glued to his seat, all the images of your fist soaring into Jason Carver’s face, ripping off your clothing in front of Higgins and the entire damned school. He went from concerned, angry at how you acted, to so fucking turned on that his stomach knotted up, sucking him to where he’s seated, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He’s never seen you like this.
The guys are silent, unsure what to say, how to even go about comprehending the you they just saw, that even Eddie himself has never heard of. He knows one thing for sure—okay—two. He has to find out if you’re okay and what’s going on.
~*~
You roll your eyes at the lovely note, signature of a three day suspension secured by Higgins at the bottom. Crumbling it up, you slide it into your back pocket, rifling through your pin tattered bag for a cigarette. You already know where you’re gonna go, and it sure as hell isn’t home. No one is there and no one is gonna care about your minor indecency. You can forge your mom’s signature, much like you do every good grade you bring home that she’s never around to see, or every comment from a teacher about how your folks are missing out.
It’s quiet at your house, your space. You parents more or less sleep there when they’re not gone on business. Pinching the filter, you cup Eddie’s stolen Zippo, that ashy hiss helping beckon that sweet bitter taste in past your lips. You don’t desire that home front solace right now, craving different scenery.
Maybe I’ll get lost…
You feel like Hawkins is your oyster, and you’re eager to explore on your own terms, by yourself. You’ve got your smokes, your pocket knife, and a pen and paper. That’s enough for you to make a decision.
Skull Rock it is.
~*~
One thing about Indiana is the ever predictable bite of hot weather that March brings. Spring is automatically Summer in the Midwest, and this is no different. Your leather top had stuck to your skin in an uncomfortable crunching press, making you eventually discard it, leaving you topless, your only accessories a chain with your birthstone pendant and a thicker silver chain, with a cheesy little guitar charm (a present from Eddie) nestled between your breasts. Your form is shaped against the rock behind your bare shoulder blades, a cool sensation that has you tilting your head back, stretching your neck, treetops breezing above you—tall and luscious. You smile softly, undoing the flap on your bag and seeking out your Walkman and sunglasses.
In moments your eyelids are fluttering closed, shielded from sun rays, your Walkman clicking in place, readying Heart’s Barracuda to nick your ears, coasting in welcomed caresses. It’s not thick heavy metal, but it’s you. And in the serenity of these woods, another cigarette you allow yourself—you begin to drift off in a galactic solitude that is solely your own. You’d learnt how to count beats, read sheet music, even sing a few notes from Eddie, so getting into your song’s groove isn’t hard for you, your fingers wrapping around your chain, tapping underneath the swell of your breast along with the chorus. You’re off the precipice and gone, demolished to the point you don’t hear the familiar footsteps, the sound of your name, or leaves and dirt crunching beneath white Reeboks, nor do you hear a throat-deep groan at his discovery.
~*~
Eddie and you always share this in synch kinda shit, which creeps a lot of people in your circle out. Eddie, however, welcomes it today. When he couldn’t find you after abandoning his lunch, spent what was left of the day attempting, only for Henderson to tell him he’d heard you’d been suspended for a few days—he made it his personal goal to find you. Your parents are gone so he knows the times you do and don’t like to be at home by yourself. And with the way you lashed out at everyone, you won’t go anywhere he has easy access to.
That leaves one place. Skull Rock.
~*~
The drive feels shorter to Eddie this time, but the walk longer. He has to shed himself of his denim and leather, tossing it over his shoulder and clambering up the path towards finding you, keeping your club tee in his back pocket. The more he walks, the more he wishes he brought a drink or his smokes, which remain on his dash. If he’s wrong and you’re not here, he isn’t sure if this is reality anymore. This day has been one big mindfuck.
Thankfully, as he hears a loud tone droning over the clearing, a soft hum, his heart patters in his chest, nostrils inhaling sharply. He rounds the corner’s pathway, already calling your name, his eyes widening, jaw unhinged, fists clenching at his sides. You’re reclining against the boulder’s curve, black shades perched over your eyes, hair draped across your neck, your boot clad ankle crossed over the other, a cigarette perched into your puckering pair of lips, your layered chains swaying, slumbering against your skin, and fuck—your tits, Eddie winces, gripping himself to adjust—frozen.
He can’t not notice how your nipples are reacting to the air. He can’t not detail your shape, how your waist is formed, zeroing in on the baby bat you’d gotten to match his larger ones, inked into your ribcage, and he certainly isn’t forgetting your jeans that are settled over your hips. His eyes glaze over, heat prodding his flesh, shrouding him a veil of desire and raw ache. You don’t notice him, calls of your name falling on mainstream rock’s ears. He doesn’t think approaching you is smart, like a cat and mouse, your behavior for once—unpredictable.
Has Eddie just not been paying attention to you that much lately?
Suddenly, when he’s debating a cowardly retreat, baiting his internal monologue for an excuse, your audible gasp is heard, his name crushed between your gritted teeth.
Fuck.
~*~
In all of his glory—stands your best-friend. He’s balling and un-balling his fists, eyes darting rapidly, tongue sucking against his teeth, feet ready to carry him far away. And the more he avoids your stare, the angrier you get. So what, you’re not good enough to look at because your breasts are out? Modesty to a back burner, you take your crossed arms off your chest, scraping your smoke out on the rock, pushing your glasses into a perch upon your head, body facing Eddie as you stand.
I dare you.
Your eyes complicate a challenge—craving him in your proximity, and hating his grunge blanketed sight. Eddie’s neck is a really pretty thing when he tenses, his jugular agitated against a harsh gulp of air. He answers you by meeting you in the clearing, palms sweaty, scrubbing over his back pockets. It’s a cool damned drink of water, as if you’ve been without, making thee Eddie Munson squirm. But he’s still your best-friend, and you are half naked.
Covering yourself back up so he will look you in the eye, you tuck your arms into a push beneath your sternum, forearms shielding your nipples. It’ll have to do.
“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing here?” You snap before he can voice a concern or a question.
Tethered to deep breathing techniques, Eddie is insulted, and is biting back in his acidic response. “After your own personal talent show antics at school, I was worried about you. Excuse-the-fuck-outta-me, Y/N.”
A bitter laugh comes from you. “Oh, you’re focused enough on my shit to actually be worried about me? How kind of you, Edward Munson.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be worried about you?” Eddie is raising his voice, sizzling in a cautious rage. He’s usually happy-go-lucky with you, but you’re pushing these fucking buttons he isn’t aware he’s been hiding.
“You really need a list of reasons? Wait,” you say, moving to circle him, pinching your thumb between your teeth, “you’re probably, completely oblivious, because I’m just Y/N. I’m not your club, not your band, not one of your groupies that flounce around for an ounce from you, then leave your ass for their jock boyfriends.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raises a hand, rings clattering together. “When the fuck did all this start, Y/N?”
Your arms fall back at your sides with a loud ‘thump’. The heating has settled, your high wearing off, truth remaining as to why you’ve been upset in the first place. A caverning hurt carves its place into your chest, igniting an anguish that drowns you. You’re defeated. “It started when my best-friend forgot that I’m my own person and not his servant. Or maybe it began when my person was so stoned that he barely acknowledged a test I fucking flunked to stay up and make his campaign posters—which, may I add—he also gave zero fucks about-“
“So all this is because I didn’t kiss the very ground you walk on for some posters that you practically begged me to make, and wow—your A+ average went to an A. Curse me into the deepest depths of hell, please.” His bracelet slides down his wrist as he palms his heart.
Maybe you’re not the only one who is changing. Eddie hasn’t ever disregarded you in such a crude manner. Your tongue is practically salivating in need to layer on biting and cruel words, things you won’t be able to come back from. You remain silent, mulling over what to say, glaring, docked, stinging prickles of tears. It’s an elating elevation when the words do come. “I’m your best-friend, Eddie. Not your little groupie. I’m tired of you preaching about conformity, when all I do is conform to you. You don’t ever let me pick music, you always take for granted I’ll give you and the guys rides when your van isn’t working, despite if I might have something to do that doesn’t involve an all male ensemble. I spend my money to buy you cigarettes and snacks for the meetings. I manage gigs, I clean your band’s equipment.”
Eddie sniffs, looking pointedly at you, doe eyes dark and growing increasingly fed up. “Didn’t know you were keeping a tally, Y/N.”
“That’s… That’s all you’re taking from everything I just said to you, Eddie?” You can’t keep that hurt out of your tone this time.
Eddie shrugs, crossing his arms, coldly spitting out, “Seems to me like you’re sick of me. And that’s not my problem, that’s yours.”
Your head is swimming in turmoil, all your acting out and emotions swirling into a mindfuck. He doesn’t care. You’re standing here finally pouring your entire soul out in heaps and your person is pouring gasoline on the pieces, dangling a match.
“I’ve never kept a tally, Eddie. I do these things because they make you happy, and that makes me happy, but it fucking sucks when you don’t appreciate them or care about anything in my life, either.”
“That’s what you really think, Y/N?” There’s a flatline in how he’s speaking to you.
“No,” you murmur, “it’s what I know.”
Eddie’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He kicks at the ground with the toe of his shoe, brows raising. “Breaking Jason Carver’s nose and my cold, dead heart.” He splays a hand across his chest. Those rings, which are always a comfort to you, reflecting off the sunlight, dripping in judgement.
Your trembling wavers, crackling sentence structure falling apart. “Eddie. Don’t.”
“No. Fuck you, Y/N. Seriously, fuck you!” He shouts, snapping a finger in your direction.
Your hands rub up and down your goosebump soaked skin, finalizing what you need to do. Heaving in a deep breath, a sentence escapes your lips. And you pray, pray Eddie will heed this warning and value what you have enough to understand, to work it out. “Maybe it’s time to fess up to the fact that 86’ needs to be a bigger year for us both.”
Mind reader. A power you’ve never wanted more than in this moment as you claw at the cusp of your best-friend’s reaction. Outwardly, Eddie shifts, Adam’s apple bobbing, thumb swiping underneath his nose. Your mouth waters, throat reflexes threatening a fountain of vomit. And Eddie takes your warning, slaying through it, every bit of ground beneath your boots threatening to cave in.
“You’re right. Hell, Carver is right. You do act like my slut. And you have every right to change it, because it’s only holding us both back. And it probably has been for a long time.”
Kicking you would’ve hurt less. You’re unable to see Eddie’s form longer, muddled to a watery silhouette, your brave bravado dissipating. You won’t beg him. You’re nothing to him anymore, he’s just confirmed. You try not to think about the first time he taught you how to dance before your first snowball, or how you both snuck Jim Hopper’s cigarettes when you’d get in trouble at school and be sent to see him for minor misdemeanors, or Eddie’s pride when he managed to get you on stage to sing one song with the band, rubbing circles on your back the whole time you both sang to a trio of drunks, or splitting beers on his van’s roof and nearly breaking limbs when it started raining and you had to climb down, how he taught you to drive in the fancy neighborhood and you knocked over the mayor’s mailbox, when you watched him buy his ‘sweetheart’, tears in his eyes at a possession so gorgeous and all his own, his hands gentle as they held you the nights you cried from one stupid thing that felt massive to you, when he was your person and you were his.
Your wet, quivering breaths are what you hear. Birds chirping, wind rustling, even Eddie’s heavy breathing drowned out. It takes what feels like eternity, before Eddie is slashing the quiet, guarded and stoic. “You need to put a fucking shirt on.”
Your jeans are covered in tear drops from a bowed head, fingers shaking hard enough that your knuckles roll into a crack at the motions. You wipe your tears in time to see Eddie hold out your Hellfire shirt—second edition—his being the first. His reverie breaks briefly, and you think… maybe. It’s gone in those brown eyes that you can no longer read or recognize. Filled with loathing and disgust at you, his last words imprinting on your psyche, a physical recoil.
“On second thought. You won’t be needing this anymore.” Eddie makes his way around you and finds his lighter atop your bag, flicking a flame to life and nudging it at the end of your shirt. It catches quick, burns fast, like every fiber of friendship with Eddie Munson.
Eddie tosses the tattered, charred remains to the forrest floor, pocketing his lighter, walking away from you and out of your life.
~*~
He can’t stay any longer and watch you fall apart, not when he’s running away from his cowardice. And he does, run. He moves and clambers, stumbles until he’s from you and the cries that he hears pour off your lips. His chest is thumping sporadically, pulse in his blurry vision. His five fingers catch a tree, slamming, splintering, a sob breaking free of his tear soaked lips.
Eddie Munson forces himself to remember how unsure you looked in your dress when he held you around your waist, never feeling more himself in his entire life than he did with you— at thirteen—during some cheesy school dance, how you entertained his tunes so he could teach you the counting method he uses for his music to move your feet to the beat, all your encouragement every time he hit a new note, or your midnight phone calls to ask what he’d like on his posters, your body trusting him to keep you safe on those nights when everything became too much for you in your life, but you had tried to hide it, or when you both snuck in to see Carrie when you were pre-teens and you couldn’t sleep without him, so he made a makeshift mattress next to your bed for a month, about that time you were so tired from an all nighter that he had walked into his room and found you curled up in his bed, using his vest as a makeshift pillow, your nagging him to study more, because he’s always capable of anything he sets his mind to, and those cookies—the only thing you can bake without having to call for Hawkins fire department—a container you’d brought for him and his Uncle, still sitting on his kitchen counter.
He was your person and you were his. And now? You’re gone. Eddie runs away. He keeps running, leaving you to your own miserable anguish, drowning in his own, getting himself in his rust bucket and going back to his trailer to get completely fucked outta his not-so-right mind.
~*~
By the time your suspension is over and you can no longer barricade yourself into your room and finish off another bottle from your dad’s liquor cabinet—it’s sheer dread. You’re not only the freak who broke Hawkins Highschool’s Prom King’s nose, but you’re the freak without anyone by your side—a true and thorough outsider. As you stand outside your school, nails pinching into already weakened threads dedicated to your bag’s strap, you’re really regretting those couple of drinks this morning and how you’d poured more vodka into a flask to take your Tylenol with. Hell, it’s not like you can get a fix from the school dealer anymore, is it?
Those damned double doors are louder, a jolt to your already throbbing headache, fluorescent lights sparkling in your retinas through your shades that cover a nursing hangover and distraught, red and puffy eyes from a three day sob fest. Each step your boots make sounds like you’re walking to your death, your outfit—sans any Hellfire related attire—is all yours. Your two chains limited to one, Eddie’s gift waiting in a cardboard box you’d half-assed assembled, and tossed in random shit he’d given you. The deeper you get into every hallway, making simple turns you know like the back of your hand, your nausea grows as to what might be awaiting around each corner. Or who. It’s a short lived relief upon arrival at your locker.
You pinch your shades off, raw eyes protesting the moment fresh tears staple your skin in brushes. In red letters, diagonally capitalized across your door contains what you haven’t wanted to face since it happened.
The freak got dumped
You choke on your salvia, throat wet and enduring a suffocation strong enough to have you gagging on the piece of toast and water you’d forced your famished form to consume this morning. You barely make it into the toilets before double over and expelling everything, diaphragm on fire, bones vibrating through tosses. Hair dangling in your face, plastered to your mouth, you sniffle and tremble, vision blurring. You ponder getting yourself fucking expelled, but you made this whole ordeal about it being your year. If you retreat now, what will that do? Mustering all your strength, your courage, you flush your bile, clean off your mouth and face, pop a mint, take a swig out of your flask, and make your way to your first class.
~*~
By the ever popular lunch time, you have managed to clean your locker and pinpoint the culprit (an ashamed that a girl broke his nose, Jason Carver), but neither of you speak on it. You keep your head down, you focus on your school work, you take your Tylenol, and you sip on your vodka. Enough to keep an edge off, but not enough to send you down a despairing hole filled with regret and torment. You know you’re being stared at as soon as you hit the line to get your tray. It’s fake smiles and refusal to acknowledge it that gets you in search of an aisle, and hopefully out of sight. You aren’t so lucky…
“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” You hear an all too cheery voice belonging to Dustin Henderson. It halts you in your tracks, a wince causing a physical recoil.
It’s not his fault you and Eddie no longer have anything resembling a relationship, and he apparently has not told them, and they’ve not seen Jason Carver’s masterpiece.
Good.
What isn’t good is that Eddie is very much at your old table and you know it’s unavoidable. You wished you had borrowed some concealer for your under eyes, but it’s too late. There’s a grand staircase cloaked in invisibility beneath your feet, your stomach knotting in crushing vices, your cheeks stained with red. You walk to your former friend group, trying like hell not to side eye Eddie Munson. Keeping a steady focal point without blinking against your scratchy lower lids is damn near impossible. And guys are going to be guys—much to your chagrin. Gareth is drawing further attention where nothing needs to be, popping off with a, “Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”
“A week long bender,” Jeff chimes in.
Biting the inside of your cheek between your teeth, you shrug a shoulder. Better them having knowledge of your binge drinking celebration than knowing about how messed up you are.
Don’t look at Eddie. Is your mantra for today.
He, on the other two hands, is not prioritizing that same aspect.
“So what if I did? I know of about ten girls who can drink your asses under the table, myself included.” You smirk, gripping your tray’s edge.
“Been holding back on us?” Gareth is grinning from ear to ear. It eases your shouldered weight tremendously, breaking tension in your table’s ranks.
“You gonna have a seat or what?” Mike Wheeler interrupts, his hands flipping towards a desired target, one that you wish you could keep pretending you never knew.
Fuck it.
You really crave for some divine intervention to help you, because meeting those chocolate brown eyes that are distraught, angry, and rimmed red—your heart constricts to painful blows, windpipes crushed beyond speaking capabilities. Eddie’s been somewhere off planet earth with that kinda high, you remember seeing his demeanor that way only a handful of times, including this one. Maybe he does care? No, doesn’t matter, don’t go there. It’s over and done.
Still, that idiotic, massively moronic part that Eddie owns of you—it’s billowing hope. Eddie Munson dashes it in seconds flat.
“No.”
You glance away, jaw twitching to control an automatic quiver. Dustin is laughing it off as a joke, someone else asking why. Eddie reclines his legs in your empty chair, loud enough to get your attention back. He wants me to see.
“No traitors.” It’s a simplistic answer, aggressive, no room to argue.
Ever-the-curious-freshmen, Dustin and Mike peg their leader for questions. You halt it, tone breaking apart, fingers tucking into your shirtsleeve as you balance your lunch on one hand and wipe across raw flesh to clean fresh tears from your eyeline. That’s when Eddie does look away.
Coward.
“It’s okay, guys.” Is what you say.
“What’s going on?” Gareth asks.
“I won’t be around meetings or practices anymore, but I’m still here if anyone needs anything, okay? You know where my locker is, and where I live.” You pat yourself on the back for that robotic but truthful statement.
“Unless you’re sick of everyone else too…” His deep voice rumbles.
Like a deer in headlights— you’re frozen, a blinding rage of hurt and red hot anger pouring over you in a storm. You explode. Picking up the first thing in your sight, which happens to be on your plate—a glob of some chocolate goop (possibly a brownie)—it’s slung directly at your former best-friend’s crisp white Hellfire shirt. Your second cafeteria incident that, yet again, everyone notices. Eddie yelps, shouting out your name in brisk spits.
You further it, abandoning your food in a repeat of days ago, floating to his side and shoving him back two steps. Eddie stops his rapid shirt swipes and immediately presses his form into yours, chests smashed, food squishing through your top. His hair is frazzled from the humidity, his toffee colored irises slowly polishing into a thick black gloss of dilated pupils. He sucks his tongue against his teeth, swaying into you, not touching you with those hands, an air about him that is beginning to swarm your initial reaction and bend it over, fucking it into the next decade. He’s taller than you remember, but you latch onto your own, tasting that cigarette soaked breath, lips hovering over his, hot tears matting your lashes.
Whether it’s regarding his inability to respond to your reasoning for this whole situation, his lack of expression, your self-disappointment for something roused inside you at his huffing proximity, you crown him with a title off a jagged voice box, damp in her sorrows, just as Dustin steps between you two, gently prying. “You’re a fucking coward, Eddie Munson.”
Teachers are starting to flock in, and you shake your head, hand over your eyes briefly, before sprinting in strides from the room in search of a place to collapse.
~*~
If you had told yourself at the beginning of the school year that you’d be in a camaraderie with the girl’s bathroom—you would have laughed. And if your mind had convinced you otherwise, you’d have expected Eddie to be right beside you, arm around your shoulders, sharing his lunch, making stupid jokes, coming up with lame ideas to make you feel better, but in that endearing Eddie Munson kinda way. You let out a soft cry, giving up on that stinging beneath your lids. You’re a hot mess and the whole building probably knows how alone you really are now. When the outcasts cast you out, where else can you go?
Clenching onto the sides of the ceramic sink, bag slipping off your shoulder and onto the floor, you keep your head bowed between your shoulder blades, not noticing someone come in and approach you, a gentle set of fingers laying upon your shoulder. Through foggy vision you can make out the green colors of her uniform and her perfectly straight ponytail, her face seemingly concerned. Your laugh is exhaustion on steroids, expression bombarded with emotion. “Okay, what the fuck is next? A girl craves some independence and the whole school turns against her. Let me guess, your boyfriend sent you to get even? Why don’t I make it easy for you and you can call your friends in here, and… and—“
Great.
Your lungs start to burn, your ribcage pounding with an erratic heartbeat, throat feeling like it’s been dusted with a thick blanket of ash. You’re panicking in front of Chrissy Cunningham. That alone has you feeling more pathetic than ever before in your life, and it worsens your heaving sobs—broken and unguarded. Chrissy’s eyes are drinking you in, irises glossing over with tears of her own. She grasps your other shoulder and squeezes, not releasing her hold on you, her soft voice strong when she speaks, but gentle enough between the expanse of your shared airspace.
“One, two, three, four. Okay, now deep breath in, and release it for me, Y/N.” She’s actually calming you, keeping you steady on your feet, which feel as if they’re sinking into the flooring below like led weights.
“Chrissy…” You aren’t sure how to articulate, still alarmed and attempting to breathe with her.
“I’m right here. Just keep breathing and counting with me.” And you do. And that’s when it hits you.
She has experience with this mind numbing panic too. That otherworldly anxiety. You feel a connective pull towards the cheerleader—seeing—not this persona you’d imagined, but her calming features, her easy going manner towards you, how she lets you find your lifeline, but also lends you her own in case you need it. When your breathing slows, she gives you a look, a silent communication of question. You may be able to breathe a little easier now, but it doesn’t stop the weight of your situation from crashing down and demolishing what’s left of you.
“Can I… I’m gonna hug you, is that okay?” At this point, if she’s going to put a sign on your back you don’t care. You need the human connection, the comfort. You agree and your schoolmate takes you into a light grip, but folds her arms around you and lets you bury your cheek against her perfumed sweater.
You both stand in the embrace, no trace of awkwardness, a sense of kinship and knowing. It’s when you pull back that hint of a questionable concern with her, wiping your sore eyes with a hiss. She notices.
“Are you here because of Jason? I just need to know.”
“Jason was a dick, Y/N.” Her language shocks you, having only heard her be proper before.
You laugh, your first genuine giggle in days. It’s contagious, as she joins in, hip jutting against the sink. “No, I’m here on my own terms. I promise. I saw what happened with your friends…”
“Yeah, I can imagine how everyone must be amused right now.” You bite your lip, facing away.
Chrissy gives you a saddened smile, but attempts to reassure. “I know this is gonna sound incredibly lame coming from me, but you’re stronger than all this, Y/N. The way you’ve stood up for yourself these past several days… I admire it.”
You frown deeply, wondering if this is a trick, because no way is Chrissy Cunningham admiring someone like you.
“You admire a loser that can’t even manage her own newfound independence?”
“No,” she says with a pause, looking down at her French tip manicure, before facing your curious gaze once more. “I admire your ability to stand up for yourself, despite what everyone is saying or doing to you. It’s a good quality to have, one that many of us are afraid of, you know?”
There’s this hollow pain in her eyes and your continued recognition has you pulling her in for another hug—this time for her benefit, rather than yours.
“Looks like we’ve fallen into the cliché trap, Cunningham.” You grin, pulling back.
Chrissy tilts her head, curious. “What do you mean?”
“A freak and a cheerleader thinking the same as what their peers think, and getting each other totally wrong.”
Her sweet eyes light up, her head nodding. “That’s exactly it.”
You share a knowing smile, a newfound bond forming. Chrissy situates her small shoulder bag, pulling out a compact and tugging you by your sleeve. “C’mhere. Let me fix that.”
She takes a gentle hand, not rushing as she speckles your sore under eyes with her own stash of makeup. After she blends it with soft fingertips, she snaps the lid closed and places it back in her bag, turning you to the bathroom mirror, brushing some of your hair through, giving your back a rub. “Is that any better, Y/N?”
Your circles are mostly covered, puffiness disguised enough where you won’t be embarrassed. You look and feel much better, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude for the blonde at your side. You incline yourself into a swivel, leaning in her direction. “Chrissy Cunningham, I think you’re one of the sweetest people I now kinda, sort of know.”
Her giggle is infectious, and she gives you another squeeze. You drop down to swoop your messenger bag into your arms, grabbing out a your notebook and a pen, scribbling your home phone on it, hesitating, before handing it over. “If you ever need to talk to someone about all the bullshit, whatever it is, consider me your new confidant.”
She holds the simple sheet paper as if it’s another lifeline and you’ve just given her a treasure. Going back into her own bag, she has a cute little pink embroidered stationary paper that she jots her number on, and uses a smiley face to dot the i in Chrissy. Seconds later, her friends and a group of other girls burst into the bathroom, gossip on their lips. You and Chrissy flash each other a secret smile, and you make another hasty retreat.
~*~
Eddie had to hear a bunch of shit from the guys, overly bearing questions sounded off by Henderson and Wheeler. The eventual revealing by a passerby group of cheerleaders about your specially decorated locker, had surprised him too. As if there’s not already a weighted dagger wedged into his ribcage, one interlocking into his heart muscle—he lost control with his bitter mouth again, and it fueled your temper. But deep down, deeper into those subconscious recesses, you both felt that ignition start, a kind of coercing heat that is waging an internal war in Eddie’s head. His sole reason for blocking you out and refusing to talk about anything with you in the woods.
Eddie Munson is in love with you. Eddie Munson needs to fuck you.
It’s something he’s always done—built walls, got high, stayed drunk, coped with humor, hid behind his guitar or his campaigns. And without his right hand woman, he feels naked, too vulnerable to all the bullshit he’s tried to keep out. And your absence has become a set course for his weakening concentration on anything that isn’t you. His ultimate warrior princess is also his Achilles heel. Your feelings in wanting to branch out, they scare Eddie.
His brain is flipping logic into thinking you are seeing what everyone else sees in him: freak, failure, piece of shit, a nobody, a criminal. He pushed you out before he could pull you back in—easy, abrupt. And it’s not just changing him—no—he could smell your vodka soaked breath across the table, see your eyes swollen and glazed—absent. For the first time in years you weren’t wearing your limited edition shirt (thanks to him), and Eddie isn’t sure why he expected you to still have his chain around your neck. It fucking hurts.
As the room slowly falls back into their daily routine, Eddie loses his appetite and leaves his herd behind, urgent to get the fuck outta this building, out of Hawkins. Hell, maybe even the country. Like you, however, Eddie Munson’s retreat isn’t one that is unscathed. In his urgency, he smacks straight into you, stumbling over his own clumsy ass feet, gripping your forearms to keep you both steady. He’s processed your scent before he even takes in your beautiful features.
Fuck…
You look less like you’ve been partying all weekend, but Eddie knows better. Your pupils are dilated to the bright overhead lights of the hallways, making your sclera more visible. It’s bloodshot red, lower lids swollen and tinged a rough crimson beneath the fresh makeup that Eddie now sees. He swallows and looks away, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip isn’t harsh, it’s simply what it’s always been with you two. Easy and sturdy, safe.
You’re the first to downcast your gaze, focusing more on your shoe wear than on Eddie. It kills him. Even through these notions, this fear, whatever anger you’re both harboring, it’s as if this whole damned school and everyone passing you two are mere bodies, Eddie Munson and Y/N Y/L/N floating, tethered. His stomach churns its lunch contents, teeth clenching tightly. You make a brisk dart off, but Eddie attempts to catch you, instead tugging too hard on your shoulder strap, causing your bag to dump and spread out its contents at his sneaker clad feet.
Eddie’s eyes are quick to see it before you realize. Shining underneath hallway lights, scattered amongst notebooks and pens, is a small flask. His brows perch, he crouches first, scooping it away from your jutting hands. Gareth’s words rewind and play on repeat in his head.
“Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”
The way his heart rate spikes, hostilely spitting that acid all over his lungs, battering his throat muscles with a pummeling storm. He’s already sure what he’ll smell if he presses the lid to his nostrils, but Eddie has to feed his anxious curiosity, unscrewing the cap with nervous hands, sniffing, shrugging off your grabs. It burns his mouth from its strength, his distraction giving you enough leeway to wrap your hands over his fingers and pull. Eddie locks your digits within his own, second thoughts gone. Against everything inside him he is getting angrier by the second, the anger masking itself, easier than being petrified and scared in front of you.
And Eddie is scared. Is he really so fucking stupid to think you weren’t at all affected by any of this?
“What the fuck, Y/N?” Your fingers sliding through his own, flood him, prickling every vein running beneath his skin, cutting off his blood flow—scorching.
~*~
Having Eddie’s hands on you again, his body so close, despite your shame at his discovery, it’s a feeling that comes more natural than breathing. You avoid his question, feeble grasping docked.
“Why do you have a flask full of fucking vodka?”
“Will you keep your voice down!” You hiss the words, finally breaking off him and retrieving the rest of your items on the scuffed up floor, and securing them back into your bag, Eddie holding back your liquor.
“Did you drive to school drinking this crap? Tell me you didn’t, Y/N, cause’ I swear to god—“
You chortle, a humorless boom smacking across your chest.
“Eddie, this faux best-friend act is getting old. Your on and off switch is enough to drive anyone to drastic measures. But don’t flatter yourself into thinking I’d be an idiot and drive drunk. Not even for you.”
His irises that are glossy with concern, they cave to dilating pupils, an animalistic rage priming them. “Oh, you have got to be the most clueless bitch alive, Y/N.” He steps towards you, frame towering slightly. You’re not afraid, never fearing if he’ll do something, because that is not Eddie, no matter what. But, you are very much dripping with rage at his words.
He pockets your flask in his left back pocket, rings clinking against it as he pats it for good measure. You try to dive around him, beneath his arm, but he swoops in on his own, using that strength for his slender frame, literally scooping you into a half bring-away, only discarding you back onto your feet once you’re both outside. You try to shove at him, palms resting on his stained club shirt. The bell has rang to signal your free period, but you don’t give two fucks, giving up and being the one to leave.
“Who’s the coward now, huh? You’re gonna walk away from me when I call you on your shit, Y/N?”
You spin on your heel, dirt and gravel specks crunched beneath your step. “I thought I was a clueless bitch, Eddie? A traitor? Or, your slut.” You scoff, crossing your arms.
Guilt briefly flickers across his features, but he shuts it down tenfold. “Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I want you to destroy your fucking liver or your life. Jesus Christ, you really think I’m that big of an asshole?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore!” You fling your hands into the air. “One minute we’re at each other’s throats, the next you’re up my ass. I don’t know what to do here, Eddie.”
“Thought you craved some individuality and independence.” Though there’s meant to be flare behind the words, Eddie’s tone has splintered across each word, voice breaking apart. Your guts sink into your ass, as does a particularly pointed swallow that stabs at your jugular.
“Didn’t say I wanted to be completely independent from my best-friend.” Your own response is gentle, voice soaked with impending emotion.
Fuck. Stupid fucking tears burning again. Not right now.
Eddie’s attention snaps back on you, proximity closing in. His jaw clenches, he moves it from side to side with a closed mouth, sniffing, whistling air through a wet breath. “Feels like you’re leavin’ me and I can’t do anything to stop it…”
It makes sense suddenly. A catapult of truth slamming right into your chest, spreading throughout your body.
He thinks I’m leaving him. That I want to leave him.
As if the last seventy two hours haven’t happened, better yet, as if they haven’t mattered in the grand scheme of things—you’re the one that meets Eddie, reaching to push that curly hair from his eyes, his head downcast and posture sullen. His brown eyes are brimmed with tears that spill over his lash line, a permanent frown creased between his brows, mouth red and spit slick. Those freckles on his nose are suddenly very prominent to you. You’ve never seen Eddie Munson this vulnerable. Your heart shatters, the ache so physically strong that you have to remain close to him to hold on and find that strength again.
How could you have gotten this so monumentally wrong? Maybe if you’d have expressed what you meant more instead of feeding off Eddie’s anger. His communication and yours both need nurturing, but your sudden shift in mood must’ve made him feel like you wanted to abandon him, not just do things for yourself. He may not realize that yet, but you do. And it fucking sucks.
“Eddie. I’m sorry.” It’s all you can say in the seconds that your heart heaves into your throat.
He shakes that shaggy mane. “Don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, especially you.” He backs away from you and you see his entire expression crumble, tears spilling onto his cheeks.
That pain drowns your throat, seeing him cry because of your lack of explanation and mutual avoidance. You chase after him, running around to block his view, unable to let him go, gripping onto his waist beneath his jacket to keep him planted. Another familiarity. He tenses beneath your touch before relaxing.
“Eddie, will you please listen to me? I think I know what’s going on now.”
“And look who is the one flipping her emotions this time.”
“Because, I… Eddie, I—“
“What lame ass line do you want me to buy, Y/N? You think I’m not used to worthless promises or idiotic reassurances? Yeah, good.” His sentence is fragmented, voice rough and breaking apart on each word. “You know I still care about you, but I don’t need you to lie to me, you don’t owe me a damn thing, I promise you—“
You press a finger to his quivering lips, halting him. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, a pause in the universe, your legs heavy, fingertip stroking along the plumpness of your best-friend’s full, lower lip. Eddie’s chest is moving up and down swiftly, tongue against his teeth, that warning look. You fail to heed it and Eddie’s hands tremble at his sides before he gives up and cups the sides of your face, bringing your foreheads together. His lips part to speak, your finger still on them. “Think we’re in trouble here.”
You can do nothing but nod as his declaring statement, inclining your head further, nose nudging his own. It doesn’t feel as if you’re standing any longer, every mean thing that Eddie has said, every disproportionate attempt of yours to communicate—obliterate, shrouding you both in the process. His breath is hot as his mouth opens and he sucks your finger inside, tongue licking its tip, biting the digit between those milky white teeth. It sends that throbbing nudge, snapping between your thighs, making you arch into your best-friend. You whisper his name and his fingers move along your jaw, across your ear, sliding through your hair and rubbing a pathway to your necks’ nape, sending an army of goosebumps across your flesh, the coolness of his rings stimulating your skin.
“Yeah, you feelin’ it too?” Your lids flutter closed, Eddie using his thumb pad to brush the corners of your lashes, signally for you to open them. “Didn’t say you could stop looking at me, did I, sweetheart?”
You grind against him, unable to stop. Your last several days, everything between you both is on hold, these buried urges able to finally win out. This dominant side of Eddie Munson has you an inward and outwardly quickening pile of mush and hormones, of fucking need. Eddie about loses his cool when you obey him, pupils blown, mouth looking parched and in need of his kisses. He leans, walls starting to slip, resolve crumbling, his pouting mood long gone.
Years of built up tension and confusion, being rightfully by one another’s sides, it all comes apart, the seams, begging to be repaired into what it has to be now.
You envelop his hold on you, hands sliding into slips beneath his jacket, around his waist, tracing over his back, before dipping under his armpits and grasping his shoulders, knuckles pushed down by his leather jacket. One more step and he’ll kiss you. He’s closing a gap, no more breaches, you tapping his shoulders right down to the blades in encouragement. It’s parted mouths hovering over one another, cigarettes and vodka, school lunch and weed, it’s—
“Hey, guys! Higgins is so pissed off right now… After that shit went down in the caf, he’s ready to expel you, Y/N! Pretty fuckin’ sure.” You hear Gareth approach, and just like, Eddie releases you.
You have to steady yourself, want simmering into a slumber in your belly, not yet gone, but still reminding you where it lives. Your glare is directed at your mutual friend. Eddie, feeling as if he’s been doused with ice cold water, and the moment is shattered, you see those walls rebuilding rapidly, and she shrugs off your hand, leaving you and Gareth, and that slickness that has collected in your panties.
~*~
You aren’t sure just exactly what Eddie is feeling, but you’re very aware of what you are. So driving to his place once you know Wayne has left for the night shift—it’s a no brainer. You’d debated bringing Eddie your box of treasures, even your necklace, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe, maybe your best-friend doesn’t want you to…?
Want.
A dynamic shift in your relationship, or what it used to be. You can barely sit still as you wrack your brain through all the levels of hazy blurs. So much has happened in three days, but… today, with Eddie nearly kissing you on the mouth, and you nearly grinding against him in the Hawkins High parking lot—yeah, you two have to talk about all of this. As you squirm in your seat, hands tightening around the wheel, that approaching trailer park sign signals your arrival to his residence. You can’t stop the way your heartbeat feels as if it’s ping ponging around in your throat, or that anxious twitch of your mouth’s corner—forget even attempting to deny your cascading memories of the way his chocolate irises wore an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen on Eddie Munson.
His trailer comes into your sights, that tickle swooping your guts and holding them hostage. You swallow a thick ball of anxiety, parking next to his van, cutting your engine. The lights are all on and you’ve got no excuse to chicken out. It’s your year too, right? Fucking fuck it.
With your keys clutched in your palm, you make your way to Eddie’s trailer, rasping on his door lightly. You don’t hear his music blaring, so he might be reading, planning a campaign, writing some music he’d mentioned wanting to practice with the guys soon, get a feel for its sound—just last week. You have given about three octaves of knocks and are about to give up, head pressed the door, thinking he was just lost in lust earlier, and maybe you’d fucked up on your end beyond repair. Exhausted by the stampeding pain that brings your insides, you flip the Munson’s spare key off your key ring and unlock the door. A bold move—albeit—a very stupid one.
That familiar scent of Eddie and Wayne’s shared carton of cigarettes hits your nose, along with the leftovers from dinner you see sitting out on the stove. Your cookies, which have been devoured, are missing their note. You panic, briefly thinking Eddie probably trashed it, only to come back from that brink seconds later. It’s not what you’re here for. You glance at the couch and it’s empty, not even Eddie’s usual indent on the cushion is there.
Swinging your keys from your pointer finger, you peek down the small hallway to Eddie’s closed door, light spilling out underneath. He could be sleeping, possibly ignoring you, or he snuck out the back door…
Your feet make an echoing squeak across the trailer’s flooring structure, your fingers twisting the knob and pushing, pausing, deciding to go ahead. If he wants you to leave then you’ll go, if he’s asleep, you’ll go, if he left… You can’t fathom that thought, another ignorance that you partake in. You aren’t sure exactly what you expected, but seeing your best-friend’s tallish frame, with his back facing you, lean leg propped atop his mattress, right arm bent at a very clear angle, his left propped on one of his many amps he’d apparently moved since you’d been here last—is sure as hell NOT it. Eddie’s curly hair ruffles and is jostled across his shoulders with each movement his arm makes, his delicious ass clenching as his body thrusts into his rhythm, the outline of his chain on his perspired neck and damp strands of dark hair—clear. You don’t have to hear the thick, slick and wet stroking to know what he’s doing to himself.
You cross an ankle over the other, squeezing your legs together tightly, trying to bounce on the balls of your heels to get relief. Your fingers white knuckle his banged up door handle, your mouth parting. Whether it’s that bond you two share, or your very visible labored breathing, Eddie’s shoulder blades pinch together, his motions abruptly cut. He turns as if caught doing something he shouldn’t be—definitely something you aren’t prepared to handle. It’s like your mouth is speaking for you, eyes in a trance, enslaved to your lustful abiding.
Fucked out, blown up pupils shave off the color of your irises, your tongue gliding across your teeth, that take a turn to sink into your bottom lip, your toes curling in your shoes. You feel hot, body battered in melting flames that won’t cease, won’t let you get in a normal burst of air flow. You know without having to fix your posture that you’ve made a mess between your legs, panties soaked to hell—completely ruined. You’re honest to fuck not sure if you can make it out of here in an upright position, that painfully strong ache tackling your cunt, breaking off your common sense, leaving you Eddie-drunk. Helping yourself to a swiping look between his legs, he’s still got a ring clad hand wrapped around a very generous girth—shiny—a length that leaves saliva pooling on your tongue’s tip.
His chest is slick with sweat, tattoos glossed beneath, nipples hard from the cool air let into his bedroom. Which, you note, is really fucking hot, and the window is steamed up. Your eyelids flutter in rapid blinks to help you reign yourself in, but all you see are glimpses of Eddie’s fist around himself, that creamy and swollen head, full balls on either side, trimmed curls at the base of his shaft. You want to die. And oh, what a sweet and sinful death that would be.
“Mhm… fuck.” You say through the gap between your panting mouth, words take the opportunity to bust free, joining a high pitched whimper.
Eddie’s chocolate eyes are completely black, leaving no room for anything else but purely raw desire. They widen, a sharp heave in his inhaling chest, abdomen flexing as he holds himself tightly. When you don’t move Eddie takes the initiative, slowly approaching, a softness there beneath the want and knowing. He reaches your space, still giving you enough, but you’re able to still feel that radiating body heat. Neither of you speak, because what is there to say right now?
You’d be a pleading mess of profanities, apologizes, and begging to be taken and used.
Thankfully, Eddie makes another move before you. His spare hand joins your own on the door knob, fingers brushing your knuckles, encouraging, giving you one more opportunity if you’re in distress or uncomfortable. You hook onto his offer and you surprise you both by finding something to say after all, throat parched, yet still damp with wanton rasp. “Start touching yourself again, Eddie. Please?” Fuck, well there’s a beg.
Eddie, assuming you want a show, nerves being dipped in lava and left to forever sizzle and smoke—gives in, both of you shutting his door and closing the two of you off from the outside world. He doesn’t wait for you to back away, pushing his hips to a rise, his cock gliding through his closed fist. You let him lean over you, frame against his door, watching his legs spread to widen his stance, obeying your plea. He almost asks, but assumes it would be too hopeful if you would want to touch yourself in front of him too. You’re out of your mind, common sense obliterated for all eternity, watching your bestfriend practically pin you to the door and fuck himself in front of you.
Those sounds you’ve imagined, pictured, they’re even more pronounced in person. Some low enough that it’s a stifling whimper, a needy sobbing. If you don’t do something about the gnawing throbbing between your thighs, it’ll be total combustion. There’s an empowerment that winds itself around a pulsating set of nerves in one’s decision to masturbate in front of their best-friend. That coolness works itself in your palms, your fingers tossing your keys over and onto Eddie’s dresser, toeing off your shoes, his eyes steamy in their grasp on your every move.
You’d wished you had brought your camera to photograph his expression when you walk over to where he stood in front of his bed, turning to face him, your fingers undoing your jeans and the zipper, a resounding echo in the room, Eddie’s tongue poking out on his upper lip, he holds himself around the base, the urgency to fuck his hand as you take your seat on his mattress and scoot with your back to the wall, hips lifting to help you pull off your jeans and panties. You struggle momentarily, but neither of you are saying a word, gazes steady and unwavering.
Discarding your clothing with a soft thump onto his floor, you’re heartbeat thumps in your throat, ribcage taking an unsteady hammering of its resounding drumming. You heed Eddie’s silent command to continue, agreeing to this turning point between you two. Your thighs fall open and that sticky want strings to your swollen folds, glistening in the creases of your thighs, your cunt sopping wet. You’re dripping, and Eddie isn’t missing it when your arousal finally does drizzle from your neglected pussy and onto his bedsheets. You shift to get comfortable, hand cupping yourself, immediately smothered in your own juices, legs falling into a drop, toes finally able to curl without the barrier of your shoes, bunching Eddie’s sheets.
Eddie watches you from where he can see, still eager to be closer, but unable to stop himself from stroking along his length, teasing that vein that runs alongside his cock. You do it again, rubbing your palm up and down your lips, a crude squelch causing Eddie to almost black out, and you shiver. He releases himself, heavy and hot between slim thighs, and he’s moving. He puffs out a gravelly hiss from pursed lips, stalking towards you and giving a cat like crawl across his own bed, planting himself shoulder to shoulder with you to your left. He must be feeling the overwhelming change that is occurring, as he reaches for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.
You gravitate towards your hand, fingers slipping through your slickness, your head bowing in embarrassment. Eddie grips your chin and tilts you his way, shaking his head, that same hand dropping to your thigh and lifting to pull up and to the side. And he looks. He fucking memorizes you between your legs with these little mewling coos of appreciation that cement themselves into your subconscious. You do the same, helping yourself to an up close and personal view of what he’s been hiding.
Eddie leans forward and cups the nap of your neck, his other hand taking your wrist and removing it from your self-touches, shushing your protesting whine. He brings it up to his mouth, which is hovering close to yours, your own fingers pressed against your lips, and he licks a straight stripe up your creamy covered palm, humming underneath his breath as he does so. You want to slap him and ride him on every available surface in this trailer. You’re the one to speak, having to.
“Eddie…” It’s a meek little trail-off.
Eddie lets go of your wrist and uses that hand to pull his cock off his stomach, a wet patch left behind in his happy trail. He still doesn’t let your neck go, his fingertips tapping an invisible beat, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He’s laughing, tufts of air settling across your mouth. You narrow your gaze, moving to shut your legs, Eddie’s hand quickly preventing the action, stroking the meat of your inner thigh. “Only fair if I’m exposed, sweetheart.”
“But… you’re laughing.” And it hits you then, why he’s really chuckling in that Eddie Munson way. It’s an incredulous and mind boggling turn of events. Best-friends that broke up when they were never together, now side by side and in a very compromising situation.
You grin and falter into his embrace, your hand working its way into a wind around his neck, taking sweaty strands in scoops between your fingers, his pick chain draped across your knuckles. Eddie licks across his bottom lip, tapping your hips as he moves, your hands falling, and sprawls his legs into a propped spread, cock neglected and flushed, much like the rest of his skin, that you’ll die if you don’t put your marks on. He’s motioning for you to turn in a slow facing position in front of him, and that’s how you end up—vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. He’s muttering words, huddled and unintelligible, reaching out and tugging you to him by your ankles, stopping, resting, eyes dark as they do a once over to gauge your mental stability. When you don’t protest, palms splaying out to keep yourself upright behind you, Eddie lets his legs flatten against his sheets, a smirk pattering his lips, indenting its knowing presses beside his mouth.
His exhale catches on a ragged breath, a passionate declaration signing off on what’s about to occur, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pulls you close, your ass resting on his hairy thighs, waiting, held, his arm wrapping around your lower back and lifting you completely into that ink splattered, silk-slick chest, his skin sticking to your long sleeved t-shirt, ruining it with sex-soaked perspiration. You think that there’s nothing—no—you know that in this entire world, no matter what, that whatever will happen to you is never going to compare to the moment when Eddie’s maneuvering hands glide your wet cunt over his cock, using your drenching heat as his own personal lubricant. Your ankles lock around his waist, no choice from the close band that your best-friend has re-tethered you to him with, leaving no room or space where you’re not touching or breathing in the other. Your arms curl around Eddie’s neck, hands draped down his back as you help yourself to pinching and clawing the flesh beneath, relishing every little grumble and groan off his pretty lips. Your face takes solace in his neck, nosing your way through his curly hair, nose bumping his chain to lift so that your mouth can claim him.
“Fuck.” His throat constricts around a swallow, your teeth sinking into a piece of Eddie’s flesh and biting, releasing, lips closing over that angry spot to soothe, tongue tasting salt, licking it off, indulging.
He lets your have your way with his neck, a particularly harsh slap landing on your ass in following of your mouth on his jugular, letting your tongue following that curvature into his jawline. You don’t stop his wandering hands, you don’t dare fight off his vice grip on the globes of your ass, his kneading, using as them leverage to place you right where he wants you. You let him take control, an unspoken agreement, a having to have. Your head falls back as Eddie rolls his hips beneath, rocking his lap, solid presses that drag his fat cock over your embarrassingly wet pussy, scattering your thick arousal and smearing it across his happy trail, getting caught in that patch of curls at the base of his shaft. You’re dripping all over him, quite literally. Caught on a trapped hum, hung in its hisses between your clenched teeth, you croon into Eddie’s neck, your stomach tightening, that velvety drag of his dick through your swollen folds making your lids flutter closed, colors dotting in their dances—translucent.
You aren’t sure where to move your hands, comfortable with having them shred Eddie’s back and empty out the past few days of frustration and desperation. Eddie encourages, palming handfuls of your ass, creating a cresting twist, a thigh trembling rub of sopping wet desire. He’s merely whimpering, appreciating, not overly vocal until his swollen head catches your neglected clit, and his head drops back, fingers pinching so tightly into your skin that it burns.
“Oh, shit. Dammit, baby.”
You’re simpering on a series of whimpers, agreeable and speechless. Eddie is feeding off it. “Yeah? You needing this too? Little clit feels so good rubbing on my dick, sweetheart. You want me to do it again?”
When you’re not immediately able to be vocal, Eddie pulls back a little, shoving his hand between your thighs and drags his rings directly through your arousal, coating them in a glittering shine. His first real touch where you need him the most. You both inhale sharply. It’s the pain from the cool metal of his jewelry that makes it feel so fucking good. He curses, telling you how messy you’re being, flinging his hand in your sights, dragging you in a pry off of his neck, holding your jaw and flashing his knuckles.
“See what you did, messy little angel. You gotta clean em’ now for me.”
His eyes are so fucking demolished, brown crushed beneath a midnight sea of black and insatiable attraction. You’re mewling, tongue lolling out, licking that metallic onto your tongue, sloppily sloping around his knuckles, lips suckling what your tongue can’t catch, your own taste fresh off your mouth. That’s when Eddie brushes a calloused thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down to expose your teeth, and he brings your lips to his, a feral groan stealing your breath, sharing your juices in your first kiss. It’s a shift in the energy you share, a no going back, no running away, a fate sealed. Eddie loses all control and flips you off his lap, pinning you beneath him, kissing you with such feverish vigor that your hand tangles into his messy curls, and you pull, hard.
His tongue licks your lips open, greedily removing what’s left of your taste that remains. It’s noisy and nasty in the expanse of his small bedroom—diabolically sinful. One hand caresses your throat’s expanse, the other dropping down with a snapped wrist between your thighs, palm smacking your cunt, a guttural groan vibrating from his mouth into your own. Saliva strings on the break away, Eddie’s gaze switching to watch the hand on your cunt, out of it.
“Your pussy always this wet, baby? Or is it just for your best-friend?”
“Only for you, Eddie. Always you.”
Fallen into the depths of satisfaction, Eddie permits a slender digit to drag down your slit, taking that thick honey with it, a squelch echoing in the room when his finger wiggles its way inside of you. You clamp around him, chest heaving with shaky breaths.
“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna drown my dick when you let me fuck you, aren’t you?”
You’re incoherently babbling, tapping the hand that’s on your throat, hungry for it. “Tighter.”
Eddie’s brow raise is comical, a surprise coating his features. “So miss Y/N likes it rough? Never woulda guessed.”
You gulp a pump of air that vibrates across his hold, trying to gain more depth from his finger. It’s moving in exploration of your softly wet walls, an excess of arousal being pressed out upon that squish. Eddie tightens his hold on your throat, before he taps his fingers to your jugular and releases, hand toppling down your side and caressing, bringing. “Fuck, my best-friend’s got such a perfect little pussy. S’ made to be destroyed and used.”
You’re nodding so hard that the motion causes a cracking pop in your neck, Eddie laughing that noise under a cute breath. He’s thick with it, wiggling in a second finger and causing you drop your hands back behind you and push into the sensation, chasing, hunting it.
“Desperate to get away from me all week, now look at you. What a whore.”
Eddie has a mouth on him, something you’d always wondered about in your daily daydreams and nightly fantasies. As vocal as when he’s singing with his band. He’s saying words to you, snapping your attention, you’re whining as his fingers leave your cunt, and he’s pulling you into him so hard your lips split apart, cushioning his cock, cradling him in that overwhelming slick. He must not have meant for that action to cause it, as he jumps when you do, this feral look flickering behind those heated orbs. You know… it’s time.
Eddie is barely able to stand, clumsily bringing you with him by a laced grip in your hands. He gets you upright and you’re dizzy, his hands taking purchase on your shirt (the only remaining piece of clothing on you), and rips it with gritting teeth and anger, as if he’s pissed it’s not the club shirt, or sickened with himself for destroying yours—you’re not sure. Spit pools at the corners of your mouth as you let him tear off your tattered tee and yank your bra down, impatiently yanking the clasp apart and discarding it, helping himself to your tits, closing those plush lips over a nipple. Your hand wraps around his throbbing cock, fingers barely touching around the width, squeezing him—tugging. His hips stutter and he whines against your breast, teeth biting the flesh with a harsh precision.
Your other hand works its way through his wet curls and massages his scalp, tenderly altering in beckoning strokes, ones that switch off into root tugging pulls. Eddie’s hands keep your breast cupped, switching off to the other, whilst you dip lower and fondle his balls, letting your pinky drop off and scratch into his inner thigh. He’s doing that humming thing underneath his fucked out tone again, and you’re focusing your attention on his cock, thumb pad stroking that weeping slit, spreading it around and over that vein, enchanted with how it causes a thin bright shine over him, your own cream matted into the curls at the base of him, pathed up his stomach. His mouth leaves your chest and those big hands grip your cheeks, both of you watching as you jack him with a sticky tug.
Fuck me.
“Who’s the whore for his bestfriend now, Eds? You gonna admit that half the shit I’ve done this week has gotten your dick so hard you can’t decide what you’ve hated me for more,” You say, pausing to twist your grip, making him fold into your holding hand, “my smart mouth or how much you need this.”
Your powering dominance is short lived, hand falling off his erection, with Eddie kneeing you into a shove until your back collides with his desk, his arm reaching around to push most of its contents off and onto the floor, not caring where any of it goes. He nudges your thighs apart and slots his lean frame between, thumb catching the corner of your mouth, his instruction clear, yet awaiting your consent to cross this no back-stepping boundary. “M’ gonna fuck you right here, and you’re goin’ to watch me take you, Y/N.”
You’re pretty sure you’re gonna pass out at any given moment.
“I’m gonna watch you, Eddie.” You agree, zoning out and sprinting after your pleasure.
“Good girl.” Eddie breaks briefly, mouth on your shoulder, hand winding your hair around his fist and tugging it back so hard that the ache inside of you becomes an inferno. He finds the underside of your chin, voice honey-hot. “Because you’re not leaving this room until there’s a puddle of me running back out of your cunt.”
You launch forward so fast that Eddie falls into you, chest smashing against your breasts, your lips crashing into his for a brutally intimate kiss. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip and tug, biting down so hard you taste copper—licking it up and making Eddie’s cock jump. His ring covered hand attaches itself to your throat and he drags you off your prop against the desk, spinning you around and securing you to it, those hairy thighs pressing into you, wet cock so close to where you need him the most. His hand wraps around your hair again and lifts your gaze to that small opening in the mirror where posters and his most prized possession hangs. You’re flushed and soaked with sweat, mouth swollen and streaked with red from biting into Eddie’s plump lip, your pussy dripping thick strings of your creamy essence, slowly slithering in dangles from your pussy and onto the floor.
“You’re so fucking messy, Y/N. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, baby?” Eddie is like the devil on your shoulder, and you, you’re his angel of eternal damnation.
You’re about to beg, but Eddie saves you the trouble, his fingers tapping in tips down your spine, caressing, stroking, before they spread your lips apart and dip inside, palm flat. “Should fuckin’ split you open, do it raw. Cum so deep inside that you end up pregnant with my baby and have no choice but to always think of me, be around me.”
Though there’s a tease behind his passionate words, there’s this primal exclamation that overtakes you and you clamp down on his fingers. A series of fast paced images are vivid in your mind. Your tummy swollen and breasts heavy, Eddie having you bent over like this—one hand on your belly, the other on your throat, feeling your pulse galavant beneath his touch.
“Y/N… Fuck, sweetheart.” He’s so fucked in his descending tone that the depth is gruff and tipping off his diaphragm, you imagine. He presses his cheek against your own, chin resting on your shoulder as you drink each other in, in the mirror’s expanse, Eddie’s tone weak. “You really willing to carry my kid?”
You meet his eyes in the cluttered mirror, nodding, a softness carving out permanent residence in your features. It’s a topic you’d never shared with anyone else, never banked too much on thinking about, but beyond the idea of how hot this all is, you can’t imagine a scenario like this that doesn’t involve Eddie Munson. Vulnerable and barely above a brisk whisper, you’re answering him with, “Yeah, Eds. Want a family with you.”
At your admission, he lets his hand go in languid thrusts. You groan and let your head shift, but Eddie is jerking you back to stare into the glass, both of you panting and on the cusp of an out of body experience. It causes you to grin, licking your lips as your best-friend pumps those experienced digits to cause a purposeful squelch, his rings clinking together. His hard cock is pressed between his own stomach and your back, that pre-cum pooling onto your lower back and smearing in streaks down your ass. You’ve had more than enough teasing and you’re well aware that Eddie has too.
His look briefly falters, turning to mouth at your chin, a silent question. It’s you who uses your words, or rather, trembles in your feeble attempt. “Eddie, just put your cock inside me, or I swear I’ll—“
He’s smirking wildly at your slack-jawed expression when his fingers slide out of you and stick together with your cum, to which he helps himself to and coats his cock, then lines himself up and presses the thick head into your opening, leaning down to bite at your shoulder and leave an exposed imprint. Your legs feel like jello and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. He’s going to ask you to beg, and you’re an all in willing participant. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t. He inhales sharply, you hold your breath, and both of you watch him sink into your slick and soft cunt, inch by inch, until his balls rest against the globes of your cheeks.
You’re still holding your breath, releasing it when you feel him sigh, grip on your hair loosening a little, too caught up in the fact that he’s where he belongs, after so much time doing without this. Your legs are about to buckle, jerking, toes curling against the carpeted floor, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, and by your best-friend’s cock throbbing in your aching pussy. “E-Eds…?” It’s a pathetic cry of a question.
Eddie’s brows pinch together, sweat beaded between. He grips your jaw and his fingertips tap you back to meet his mouth, hovering over your lips. “S’ okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” He briefly drops the playful gimmick, reassuring you that he’s right here with you.
It’s more than enough to have you arching back into him, a brash pummeling of his hips that sends you into the dresser, having to reach out and catch yourself. Eddie is quick witted, gripping your wrists with one hand and pinning them behind your back, stepping with you in toe, elongating his arm to snatch those handcuffs on his wall, that cold metal biting into your wrist, that dull noise presenting itself as the cuffs lock you into place, Eddie gripping onto the chains’ excess expanse, using it as a leverage. A sliver of a chalky moan trickles off your kiss-swollen lips, appreciative. The way Eddie is manhandling you has you so fucking euphoric that you’re sure you’ll be in a comatose state before either of you can cum. Your best-friend’s large hand finds purchase in your hair again, drawing his hips back, the other on the chain of the cuffs—steadying himself into a rhythm, riding you like all that matters is your destruction and his ultimate ownership.
Eddie Munson has owned you since the very moment that you two met.
The way he’s executing such precise and rough thrusts, making sure you’re high on the bring up, toes pressing into the carpet, that you’re stuffed full of his fat cock until it hurts, twitching in overstimulation, sore and fluttering walls eager to be soaked in everything he has to give you, that you are taking in every inch, catching every ridge, leaving you a shambled, panting mess, in pieces only being put back together again when Eddie will allow your release. His hair is tickling your shoulder blades, his fingers leaving the cuffs to press into your mouth and curl over your tongue, relishing in how you gag around the digits. You’re weak, so fucking weak for him, and he knows it.
“Can’t wait to hear you gag on my cock, Y/N. If you have trouble with these bad boys?” He puts an emphasis, wiggling his fingers against your tongue, giving them a secondary push to over extend your gag reflexes, his dick twitching inside you.
You bite down on his fingers, sucking them in, accepting his challenge, willing it to happen. His balls slap into your ass, heavy and hot, every movement causing the metal to rut into the skin of your wrists. He’s got a steady tempo going, alternating it by dipping his hips to bring you with him, letting you nearly collide with your chest flush to his desk. He reaches up and shoves that poster back by peeling tape, revealing more of your fucked out forms. Your eyes widen at your disheveled and unrecognizable appearance, Eddie using your cuffed hands as reigns. Riding you so hard that you can’t breathe anything but his hot air curling around the shell of your ear.
“Dammit, you are such a good girl for me, Y/N. Always pictured you takin’ my cock, but you’re not even crying yet, just taking what I give you.”
Yet… Fuck me running.
Your scalp is tingling with a prickling crowd of flames from his harsh grip, his other hand reaching to smack your ass, using some mechanism on the cuffs—albeit—struggling with his spit soaked fingers that were just in your mouth, to unlatch them and discard them at your feet, and he watches the flesh of your ass cheek redden and jiggle beneath his biting palm. You fist your fingers into a strewn pair of his blue denim jeans left on the desk top, dipping your forehead down and arching your back, trying to look between your own legs from this new angle to see Eddie’s cock cradled in your puffy lips. He tuts at your unsuccessful action, forcing you back into watching him doing his hard work—the hardest he’s worked at anything (sans his band or the campaigns, if he’s being honest with himself)—to make this unforgettable for you. He hits that spot located inside, the one you have to strain an arm to barely graze, and you lose all coherent capabilities.
“Eddie… that’s, oh my god, oh FUCK. Right there!”
Eddie’s throat crumbles under a weak pant, which ends up coming out as a whimper. He remains firm, however, still using your hair to keep you right where he wants you, his other hand reaching around to pet his own shaft as he slides out just enough to make you wetter.
“Yeah, baby? That spot gonna make somethin’ happen for you?”
You don’t answer, mumbles and babbling gibberish. He shakes that precious head of his, curls tickling your back and shoulders, a sigh breaking free. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t believe we’re doin’ this in front of you. Both my girls right here with me, one of them at my fuckin’ mercy.” Your attentions snap over your shoulder and you see Eddie looking at his fucking guitar, that is one of the only things remaining on the mirror. You gape, but aren’t surprised in the slightest.
He continues on, pretending he doesn’t see your partial seethe. “Makin’ a mess all over me, but I bet you like to see it too, don’t you?” He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, still talking to the inanimate object. “Both my sweethearts are such sluts for their owner.”
You can’t help that rattle that clamps around your bones and slices through your spinal cord, seizing your abdomen, right down into your cunt. Owner? You have zero time to warn him, ask if you can, alarms unprepared, skin slapping on skin, his taste on your mouth, his breath on your flesh, that slippery glide that has cum running down your thighs, and it’s a sudden wave crashing over your insides and drowning them in your painfully interstellar-esque orgasm. Your eyes burn with tears as you watch your best-friend feel what’s happening, realizing. He’s covered in your release, and instead of being mad, he is influencing you like the little devil that he can be, plump lip pressing to your ear lobe with one continuous command. “That’s it. C’mon, Y/N. Drench my dick.”
You wish you could bottle the feeling of your first orgasm with Eddie Munson, your best-friend—forever. Finding yourself growing into that vulnerability that comes with the high, you seek to find solace in Eddie’s arms, whimpering at the overstimulation of his thick cock. With that connection still in tact, Eddie is spinning you around, dick sliding out with a messy mixture of arousals covering you both—his member completely doused in your cream, painting the trimmed curls at the base of his shaft with even more of you, slicking back some more of that happy trail. You want to be embarrassed, but as he’s red faced and struggling to breathe, you know that there’s no need to be. He steers you back onto the bed, falling easily between your spread thighs, drawing them up and around his waist.
He presses his forehead into your own, kissing each corner of your mouth, rings circling in dusting sweeps on the apex of your thighs. His voice is a shivered whisper. “Fuck, baby. You okay?”
There’s words on your tongue, Eddie’s taste on your mouth, things you’ve known for years, but are unsure if Eddie has, or if this is something he needs because he’s afraid you’ll abandon him, but that he doesn’t feel what you do. Your head is spinning and Eddie brushes sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, taking his cock through your swollen folds, pressing that spongey head into your clit—both of you crying out. “Y/N, m’ right here. Care to join me?”
And god help you, the way that you look at him. Really allow yourself to see him this way—unabashed—it stirs all those feelings Eddie has bottled down since forever. You press your thumb into his mouth, your other hand sliding down to grip onto him, gliding your hand back and forth, relishing in how his abdomen tenses, muscles flexing, body gravitating towards whatever you’re willing to bestow. He doesn’t let you touch him much longer, taking what your hand isn’t around and guiding it back into your cunt, that scrumptious burn brimming you, making your thighs drop open, back arch, only to tighten your ankles around him, digging your heels into his ass. He suckles your fingertip into his mouth, licking the digit in until it’s down to the knuckle.
Your head presses sideways, cheek on his pillow, inhaling his shaving cream and that spicy scent. He pauses his movements, making you frown in displeasure. He lets go of your spit tainted finger, gripping your chin, a possessive fire overcoming him. His irises remain completely black, putting you deeper into that comatose trance of agonizing sin. “I want you to fucking say it, Y/N.”
You start a beginning questionnaire, Eddie shaking his head and pressing in harder on your chin, fingers splaying across your jaw, rings pinching your chin in the most delightfully painful of ways. “Say you want me, tell me you fucking need me. That you’re not tired of me, and that you’re proud to be the freak’s slut.”
Your hands wind around his back and you sink your nails in as hard as you can, bearing down on him, sucking him in deeper, both of you in a state of no return. His hand tickles down from your face and grips your neck. “Still sick of me, baby?” He situates your gaze, lifting his hips to a raise so that you can see where you’re connected. You’re inconsolable, that fire already blazing your gut, turning every sense into nothingness.
When Eddie starts back up again, he slams himself into you so hard that your vision goes dark and you shred your own bottom lip open, body moving closer to his wall due to the force. He’s licking beneath your jugular, words sensual and filthy, making your entire body spike in a sudden electricity. “Gonna cum in every hole you’ve got, so you remember that they’re mine.”
This time you’re more than ready to give him a warning, body beginning to shake beyond your control, breaths stuttering in your chest. Eddie reaches down between you, calloused thumb flicking your clit. Everything is so fucking wet and the way it sounds in the expanse of Eddie’s small room, it has you opening your mouth, out of control and greedily begging for more.
“Eds, harder. Please? Almost…”
He’s grinning in that special way that weakens you—heart and soul, body and mind. “So much more than a slut.” His thrusts become choppy, his own babbling tone turning into Eddie-speak. “You are way more than you know, Y/N.”
You fondle his pick chain and bring him into your immediate airspace, mouths hovering. He’s nearing his end, cock getting fuller inside you. “Need you to tell me how much you love me.”
You both completely go slack. Eddie stops himself all together, body trembling, head bowing. Your heart rate increases, feeling as if you’ve skipped a staircase thousands of feet in the air and you’re now free falling.
Love… You don’t have to think twice.
Your hands move to cup his face, holding on, your eyes shining with tears at all overloaded emotions and senses. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”
At your admission, those beautiful eyes—dark with remains of passion—they fill, and he gives you his all, driving his cock into you in calculated presses, trying like hell to get you to cum first. When he speaks, his voice cracks apart. “Let me know that you’re right here with me, Y/N.”
“I’ve always been here, Eddie.” Is what you manage, thumping your hand against his wrist and helping him bring his fingers back to your clit.
He doesn’t let you look away, noses smashed together, sticky foreheads pressing, hair curtaining the apples of pink, sex stained cheeks. Your eyes widen as that knot begins to tighten in your stomach, unraveling so violently that Eddie has to grip your quivering thigh in one hand, the other keeping steady on your clit. You dig into his back, other hand tugging on his hair, and Eddie is giving a throaty seduction. “That’s it, be my good girl and cum again for me.”
And you’re coming apart at your very core, every cell exploding and rebuilding, gluing yourself to Eddie to seize the ache that scrambles your insides and leaves you breathless. He’s cursing, keeping his finger on your clit to help you coast over the high, immediately following you with the lowest, sweetest, whimpering moan that you’ve ever heard. Both of your eyes still drinking in the other’s pleasure, tears spilling over your lash line as Eddie’s hips cease and he holds, his cock swelling and that soft, creamy warmth coating your sore walls in spurts. He collapses onto your chest and you hold him there in a vice hug, his hand still trapped between your exhausted bodies. He gently eases it out, groaning around the wetness that he’s all too eager to sample until the layer of shine is off his fingers.
Holy shit and fuck me…
Your legs fall to the side, unable to stay upright any longer, Eddie keeping a hovering hand to soothe your shaking. He kisses your neck with a plush mouth, his chain dangling between your breasts. You’re petting his hair—which is so soaked it’s as if he’s been in the rain or come from the shower—off his forehead, wincing as he slides out and keeps himself by your side. You gasp and he joins, fascinated by your cum and his own seed pouring from your cunt. He raises up a little. “Mhm. Let me see?”
He props your thigh, sliding his fingers back and forth, zoned in on his bedsheets being ruined from the literal puddle of your shared cum that runs from you. Seconds pass and he grins widely, plopping onto his back, his fingertips caressing your shoulder, down to your arm. It’s a comfortable quiet, even with the intense meaning of the words that were spoken, until Eddie starts with a, “So..?”
And you cut him off, trying to get your uncomfortably hot body closer. “So I love you. And I have never stopped needing you, or wanting you, Eddie. I just hope all this wasn’t because we were fighting and you got scared I would leave, and —“
He doesn’t let you finish this time, that chocolate-ly brown ring swinging back around his pupil in a brisk develop, showcasing the moisture in his eyes. “I was scared because I love you so damn much that I would charge headfirst into Mordor, or some alternate dimension without any weapon or any shield, just for you. You gotta know that, Y/N.”
His softness, that glittering fragility, it makes you seal your mouth to his, kissing him full of your feelings. He cups the nape of your neck, drawing in closer, thumb coaxing a shiver from you as it passes over a certain spot behind your ear. On a wet break away, you’re nodding your head. “Guess we spent all week fighting when we should’ve been fucking and talking about our feelings.”
Eddie smirks, then is serious. “Be that as it may, I’m sorry I’ve been shit at showing you I appreciate all that you do for the guys and me. And for forgetting that you are your own person too. S’ not like I meant to, I swear. I just get so fucking caught up and I shouldn’t take for granted anything that has to do with you or with us.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re my best-friend, Eddie Munson?”
While it’s still true, you’re wondering when the words leave your lips. Eddie just fucked you so hard you probably won’t be able to sit down for a week or walk upright for hours, so friendship isn’t exactly the most appropriate term anymore, is it?
Eddie taps his fingertips to your temple, drawing your dazed expression, clinging to the cosmic connection once more. “M’ yours, Y/N.”
“Oh yeah, Munson?” You’re so high that you could fly out of here right now and make rounds around the whole globe. Your chest is aching with a tempo that promises new hope and ease.
Eddie is giddy too, that wide set smile, cheesing. “Just gotta get you a new shirt.”
The memory of your old club attire being one with the forest floor seems like so long ago. Eddie knuckle grazes your cheek, apologetic. You shush him. “I ruined yours, so we’re even.”
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and he’s tackling you beneath him, pinning your hands in a lace above your head. “Nah, we are just getting started on bein’ even, baby.”
~*~
Tagging: @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @gothbitchshit @thisishellfire @ethereal27cereal @likedovesinthewnd
-I really need to form a bigger tag list! I’m sorry :/-
Lemme know if you want on my general tag list, please! :)
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kentuckyboyharlow · 4 months
Text
Pumpkins adoption day
This is a collaboration with the incredible and insanely talented @harlowcomehome 🩷🩷🩷 thank you so much for working with me and just everything 🩷🩷
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Jack had been having a tough time lately, adjusting to life back home after the whirlwind of his life the last three years.
“Baby” you kissed his shoulder blades as he softly snored beside you.
You knew he had only just fallen asleep after yet another sleepless night. Christmas was around the corner, and he had been overworking himself to get this album done, intending for a late January or early February release.
You went into the guest bathroom and got ready hoping to leave the house before he woke up for the day.
Your phone vibrating as you had finally gotten the call you’d been hoping for.
Jack had been casually mentioning how much he wanted a dog for the past couple of months, often reminiscing about his childhood pet. You had been going to an animal shelter looking for a specific breed, hoping that you’d get lucky.
You remembered how often Jack would tell you how much he loved his family dog and how he wanted the have one of his own someday. Considering how much he had been going through you thought getting him a dog now would somehow make him feel better, or ease the load.
After you had been consistently showing up at the shelter for a while, one of the girls who worked there reached out to you asking what you were looking for and putting you on a list to be called if a dog in that breed ever came in.
You were starting to give up hope until you had gotten the call this morning. Once you had finished getting ready you went into the bedroom to check if Jack was still asleep. When you saw him sleeping you kissed his head gently before quietly leaving, eager to go to the shelter first thing.
You drove down to the shelter, worried they’d place her with someone else if you didn’t hurry.
When you arrived she was up front with the staff, being passed around from arm to arm.
“Where do I sign?” You asked, holding the puppy close to you worried someone would take her away.
The employees smiled at you, printing out the necessary paperwork.
“Would you like to pick out a collar? We usually give out free ones with any adoption!”
You nodded looking through their options before picking out a silky purple one with a bow on it. You slipped it on her admiring how adorable she looked.
“Such a beautiful girl!” You cooed at her, kissing her on the curly head.
After you signed the paperwork she was officially adopted and all yours. You had carefully placed her on a pile of blankets in your passenger seat and wrapped her up in one for security.
You went to the nearest pet store to buy her all the things she needed, knowing full well you were going overboard the second you walked in.
“Your daddy is gonna love you so much,” you said, reaching your hand out to pet her head. You softly giggled noticing her and Jack had matching hairstyles.
Once you had gotten to the pet store you put her in the cart like she was a child.
You were definitely taking this mothering thing to a whole new level with her already.
“Okay, little missy what kind of bed do you want? Looks like we have a sad beige color” You looked at her and smiled when she didn’t find your antics amusing.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you girl, oh what about this pink one!” You held the bed out to her and her tail wagged so you took that as a yes.
“Pink it is! Let’s go find you some toys” Once you had picked out quite a few toys she liked you of course picked up a pink leash to go with her bed.
You also got treats, puppy food, food bowls, and puppy pads thinking you were likely all set.
When you left the store you could hardly contain your excitement.
You made it home safely leaving the bags in the car as you wrapped her in a blanket and walked inside with her.
Jack was in the kitchen making himself something to eat when he heard the door shut.
“I’m making omelets!” He shouted over the music he was currently playing.
“Babe, can you turn that down? You’re scaring her” you stifled a giggle.
“Scaring who?” He turned the music off as he questioned you. Emerging from the kitchen with a spatula in his hands.
He immediately stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes hyper-fixated on the small puppy in your arms.
“Babe” his voice cracked. “Babe, you didn’t.”
“I did” You walked toward him, trading him the puppy for the spatula he was holding.
She started licking his hands immediately, he held her up in the air above him.
“Hi pretty baby” he spoke to her in a soft baby voice that you’d never heard before.
“Is she ours?”
“Yes,” you smiled, going to the kitchen to tend to his food before it burned. You quickly plated it and turned the stove off returning to the living room where Jack was now sitting on the floor with her.
“We have to get you a bed and some food. Yes, we do” Jack spoke to her in the same tone as he booped her nose.
“I actually got all of that, it’s in the car” you smiled before sitting down beside the two of them.
Jack's eyes were glossy and filled with emotion.
“You didn’t have to do this” he whispered as he watched his new fur baby hop around your shared apartment.
“I wanted to” You leaned your head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of your head.
You both had only looked away for a moment before you realized the puppy was out of sight.
“Pumpkin?” Jack panicked the name rolling off his tongue without thinking.
Pumpkin was chewing on a pair of fresh new balance laces in the corner of the room.
“Pumpkin huh?” You giggled as you followed Jack over to her.
“Is that okay? Do you like it? We can change it” he continued rambling only making you giggle once more.
“It’s perfect. Pumpkin is perfect.”
290 notes · View notes
imthebadguyyy · 7 months
Text
Lay All Your Love On Me
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pairing - charles leclerc x reader
fandom - f1
synopsis - a look back into your relationship pt i pt ii
a/n - inspired by my obsession with the mamma mia soundtrack, enjoy!
"i want to tell y/n that i love her"
while the statement had been easy enough to make, charles hadn't really figured out exactly how he planned to tell you, his best friend, his closest friend, his confidante, and the love of his life that, well, he was so head over heels for you the whole world seemed upside down.
he also hasn't anticipated the reaction he received from his family. his mother of course, was overjoyed that her son was finally telling her unofficial daughter that he loved her. but the person who was the most excited of all was of course, arthur.
when charles told carla and him that he was going to tell you he loved you, arthur let out the loudest whoop he had ever managed to vocally produce in his life.
"FINALLY MON FRERE!" he exclaimed, startling carla, who was just as excited. "mon dieu, calme toi" my god, calm down charles said, suppressing a laugh at his brother's antics.
"how can i calm down?!?! ive been waiting for this day since I was thirteen and realized I wanted y/n to officially be in our family and ever since you have been pining over her like a puppy I am allowed to be excited!!" he shouted, now doing a strange version of the rumba around the yacht.
all the commotion he was causing caught lorenzo's attention, who strolled out with a drink in his hand and charlotte by his side, who had been rudely awoken from her nap by arthur's over enthusiastic celebrations.
"arthur, pourquoi cries-tu?" arthur, why are you shouting? enzo asked, leaning against the railing. "yes arthur, some of us are trying to sleep" charlotte laughed, leaning against the railing as well.
"well, dear enzo, it seems that notre chere frere is finally confessing his undying love and affection for our favourite person" our darling brother arthur smiled widely.
"non, c'est vrai?" no, is this true? enzo asked, genuinely surprised.
"oui" charles smiled, blushing slightly at all the excitement. he hadn't expected the delightful swarm of butterflies fluttering from his heart to his tummy, plunging into the depths of his soul, as he thought of you and the possibility of finally confessing his love for you.
"well that's amazing! it's about time too" charlotte joked with a laugh. "i agree charles, it's been so long that you like her" enzo smiled, clapping his brother on the back.
"isn't this so exciting? now y/n can finally offically be the third sister in our trio!" carla exclaimed excitedly, already making a billion plans on how the three of you would bond. she already shared a very close bond with charlotte, and had always held a soft spot for you.
charlotte also was very fond of you, and pascale had once joked that charlotte was your big sister and you were carla's. she has secretly hoped to see all three of you as her daughter in law's one day, and finally, she thought her dream was one step closer to becoming a reality.
"so how are you going to tell her?" arthur asked, crossing his arms, deep in thought.
"i think i know exactly how, but i need your help in convincing her to join me. she's been distant... and i don't know if she'll want to see me at all" he admitted.
"of course she will, she loves you so much" enzo said, having picked up on your affection for his brother at an early age. enzo had also secretly hoped that you and charles would get together years ago, having seen the both of you joined at the hip since you were six.
but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a hint of protectiveness towards you. after your father had passed, you had turned to enzo as a leading figure in your life, and he had stuck with you through thick and thin. as much as lorenzo loved his brother, he also knew his dating history wasn't the prettiest.
so it only seemed natural that once the excitement had died down in the slightest, he took charles aside for a talk.
"charles, i'm very happy that you've decided to take this decision, truly i am-" he started, but charles cut him off.
"je sais ce que tu es sur le point de dire, que je n'ai pas la meilleure histoire en matière de rencontres avec des femmes et que je ne suis pas vraiment un très bon petit ami. mais enzo, je te promets que je ne pourrais jamais lui faire de mal, jamais. je regrette sincèrement toutes les erreurs que j'ai commises, et je ne peux pas imaginer ma vie sans y/n à mes côtés, non seulement en tant qu'amie, mais en tant qu'amoureuse et partenaire pour la vie, si elle veut bien" i know what you're about to say, that I don't have the best history with dating women and that I am not exactly a very good boyfriend. But enzo, i promise that i could never ever hurt her. i truly regret all the mistakes I've made, and i can't imagine my life without y/n by my side, not just as a friend, but as my lover and partner for life, if she'll have me. I swear i try my hardest to be the best I can for her, always" charles said, emotion brimming deep in his eyes.
lorenzo took a second to respond, pondering over his brother's words thoughtfully.
"je te fais confiance. elle mérite le meilleur dans la vie, charles. elle a traversé des moments difficiles et a passé de nombreuses années à cacher ses sentiments pour toi. je l'aime profondément, et elle est tout aussi importante pour moi que tu l'es. j'ai besoin de savoir que tu ne lui feras pas de mal, car je refuse de la voir souffrir à nouveau, d'accord ? mais je sais que tu es un homme bien, le meilleur frère que je puisse avoir. alors, fonce. mais s'il te plaît, pour son bien, sois le charles que nous connaissons."
i trust you. she deserves the very best in life, charles. She has been through tough times, and has spent many years hiding her feelings from you. i love her greatly and she is just as important to me as you are. i need to know that you won't hurt her because i refuse to see her in pain again, okay? but i know you're a good man, and the best brother i could ask for. So go for it. But please, for her sake, be the charles we know"
charles nodded, understanding reaching out to pull his brother into a hug.
"je l'aime. et je ne te décevrai pas non plus." i love her. and i won't let you down either, charles murmured, and lorenzo clapped him on the back again. "i know. you deserve happiness, the both of you" he said, and with another quick hug, he left charles with his thoughts on the boat.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
unbeknownst to charles, you were still stuck in a state of misery, believing your best friend, who was incidentally the man you were hopelessly in love with, was never going to love you back.
the harsh reality of that thought had been best expressed in the studio, and you found yourself writing song after song about unrequited love, and about the pains of falling in love with your best friend.
jack antonoff relaxed in his chair, stretching after almost six hours straight of recording and producing your latest heartbreak melody. you were forever grateful for him, and his endless patience with your indecisiveness and emotions.
he had been so understanding about your emotional dilemmas, spending many a wine drunk evening listening to you ramble and helping you convert it into beautiful songs that had you in tears.
"i think we should definitely release this one" you mused, headphones on and listening to the song you had just finished recording.
"i think we should record all 142 songs we've made but yes, this one is...something special" he admitted.
"but is it too obvious? is it too vulnerable? am i leaving the door open to criticism and hate and negative reviews? it's nothing like what we usually make but it's.. it's something I need to share" you admitted, half to jack and half to yourself.
"look, you are at the height of your career and your music has been nothing short of phenomenal. of course people will comment, of course you're being vulnerable, but isn't that what we do? isn't that why we write music? isnt it because we need a healthy outlet for our emotions, so you can express yourself?" he asked sincerely, and you found yourself nodding.
"yes..." the hesitation was still there. vulnerability didn't exactly stem from the music, but rather, from the fear of what charles would think. surely he would connect the dots and realise it was about him? surely he would notice that his best friend was singing soft croonings about her undying love for him, and how badly she longed for him? surely so many years of friendship meant he had a passageway into her mind and heart? surely, right?
"my father once told me 'the fear of vulnerability is a fortress we build to shield our hearts from the unknown', you told jack, eyes looking beyond him to the view of the blue sea out the window, "and i think that's why i feel this... nervousness. ive spent almost a decade being in love with my best friend, and putting out a song like this? people will speculate. i don't want to ruin his life..." you trailed off, insecurity seeping into your tone.
"i understand. but you're not ruining his career. yes, people can speculate but you don't need to confirm or deny those speculations. the media can be cruel y/n. we know that. but we don't stop that from doing what we do best" he said, and you nodded.
"okay. next week" you said.
"thats soon" jack said, adding the finishing touches to the song.
"one day or day one" you said, standing up to make the call to your team.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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liked by charlesleclerc, billieeilish, lilymunihe, lewishamilton, charlotte2304, bellahadid and 2,706, 587 others
@yourinstagram - someone like you. out now.
tagged - @jackantonoff
user12 : oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god
user 13 : MAAM YOU CANNOT KEEP DROPPING BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE SINGLES AND EXPECT US TO BE OKAY 😭😭
user 77 : her voice, the piano, the high notes, the production - jack and y/n are the most elite singer producer combo ever
user22 : idk why but i get the sense this song is about charles? i mean "i heard that you've settled down" i mean he isn't married but she's clearly insinuating a relationship that she wishes she had with someone she loves and is close with... and who is her best friend..it's charles leclerc... "old friend" seems so fitting
-user23 - you're delulu (i believe you)
-user16 - let THEM COOK
user23 : she looks STUNNING
user65 : why does she look like a GODDESS and an ANGEL
lilymunihe : crying in a walmart parking lot because you're voice is a wonder you are a wonder your skills are a wonder and i love everything about this and u
-@yourinstagram : 🥺 lily i love you. thank you for being such a wonderful friend. forever by your side.
kika.gomes : baby u are a wonder. your voice has me mesmerized. i love u so much. forever in awe of u and your wondrous talent 💗
-@yourinstagram : kika i love u so much 🥺💗 thank you for always supporting me. love u to the moon and back. please come and visit soon!!
-kika.gomes : on my way
-lilymunihe : wait me too omg lemme book a flight
-carmenmundt : alright me as well
-user40 : not all the wags being best friend with y/n 😭😭
carla.brocker : oh y/n this is so beautiful... i'm so proud to call you my friend 🥺 je t'aime 🫶🏼
-@yourinstagram : je t'aime carla 🩷
arthurleclerc - so proud of you, grande soeur, love the song 🩷
-@yourinstagram : love u thur.
charlesleclerc : magnifique, ma belle.
-@yourinstagram : merci charles 🥰
-user12 : usually she's.... much more enthusiastic about his comments
-user44 : babes if i wrote a song about my best friend and he was dense enough to not know and congratulate me id say merci too smh
-user30 : a charlesyn interaction after so long im so happy 😭
leclercpascale - tu es quelque chose de spécial, mon chéri. je t'aime toujours ❤️ you are something special my darling, love you always
-@yourinstagram - merci maman 🥺💗 tu es mon plus grand soutien, j'espère te voir bientôt you are my greatest supporter, i hope to see you soon
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
charles had been with joris and andrea when he had opened instagram to see your post.
"y/n's released a new song" he said, and joris quirked an eyebrow. "right now?" he asked, settling into charles' plush couch, flicking through to open apple music on the tv.
"yes, it's called someone like you. play it please" charles said, pulling a bowl of watermelon closer to the table.
the only sounds in the room were the munching of the watermelon and joris clicking the remote when charles picked up his phone, ready to send you a text after listening to your song.
the opening notes of the piano filled the room, bringing a soft smile to his face as a favourite memory creeped up into his thoughts.
you were sitting on the piano still, fingers playing random keys as you figured it out. at the age of 8, you had decided you wanted to be a singer and wanted to learn all the instruments you could. you were already playing guitar that you're dad was teaching you, but your fascination with the piano has always remained.
"charles i can't do this" you whined, throwing you head back, sighing at your best friend who was flipping through a safety guidebook for karting.
why not, you're smarter than i am" he said, earning a giggle from you. "you're smart too charlie" "alright alright, ive seen arthur play, let us try and figure it out"
hours later, herve and pascale returned home to find you and charles deeply engrossed in figuring out chords, trying to sing along to la vie on rose by edith piaf. the both of you had your tongues stuck out in concentration, working together to figure it out.
it brought a smile to their faces, knowing you'd always have each others support.
as charles registered the sound of your voice floating in, he closed his eyes, leaning back to enjoy the music, before he was whacked with a cushion.
"idiot, écoutes-tu correctement la chanson ?" idiot, are you listening to the song properly? joris asked, having caught on to the meaning before charles.
"yes, i am" charles said, rubbing his head in confusion.
"lei sta cantando di te." she's singing about you, andrea said, shaking his head at charles' slow reaction.
"qui?" charles asked, taken aback.
I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you....
Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you, too
"Don't forget me, " I beg
I remember you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"
"she's clearly talking about you! cmon charles, we all know you've both been head over heels for each other since we were kids. and look, it's all there, she even says old friend! how much more proof do you want" joris asked, exasperated.
"but-but- what does she mean by nevermind? i was going to tell her.." charles trailed off.
"then tell her soon, charlito, before she tries to move on. you deserve to tell her your feelings because she likes you too" andrea said, the usually quiet man genuinely cared about you as well, and knew of charles deep love for you.
"you're right. ill call her over tonight" charles said, nervous springing to life in every part of his body.
the anticipation grew as he realized that their connection could shift that very evening taking on a new dimension.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
charles rushed to send you a text, at the same time he set about setting the yacht up. he had decided to sail the both of you to the cove you discovered as children, to enjoy a dinner of carbonara and red wine, which had been a favourite for the two of you. he made sure the yacht was stocked with bottles of wine and champagne, and even got the ferrari team chef to cook for the both of you.
he set about setting the table just right, with candles and roses and his finest crockery and cutlery. he set the flowers on the table and glanced over at the bouquet he had for you, along with the present he intended to give you later.
he had also taken the time to curate a spotify playlist for the both of you, that was already playing softly in the background.
he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. in fact he hadn't felt this nervous since his first ever f1 race.
the nerves before telling someone you love them felt like a symphony of butterflies fluttering within his chest, a captivating mix of excitement and trepidation. his heart races, and every word he'd rehearsed a hundred times running laps in his mind.
he opened your chat to read the texts he had sent you, in an attempt to slow down his beating heart.
charlie ❤️ : cherie, je me demandais si tu voudrais me rejoindre ce soir sur le yacht pour dîner. j'avais envie de passer du temps avec toi. i was wondering if you'd join me on the yacht tonight for dinner? I've been wanting to spend time with you
you : tonight? id love to. is there anything happening?
charlie ❤️ : no, just wanted to spend some time with my dearest friend who i haven't seen in forever.
you : sorry, cherie, ive been busy :(
charlie ❤️ : thats alright amour, im just messing around. but is it okay if i ask, are you mad at me?
you : what, no?
charlie ❤️ : it's just...you've seemed a little distant and i can't point out why and i was just wondering if maybe i upset you?
you : oh not at all my sweet boy, ive just been preoccupied, thats all. we'll talk at dinner?
charlie ❤️ : of course cherie. see you then 🩷
you : see you 🩷
charles had blushed at the mention of "my sweet boy" and had also made up his mind to talk to you about whatever was bothering you. but he had a feeling he knew what it was about.
nevertheless, he paced back and forth as the sun began to set, casting the perfect golden hue on his boat. and just as the golden rays bathed monaco, you appeared like an angel, dress fluttering in the wind as you made your way to charles' yacht.
the sight of you took his breath away, hair billowing in the wind, your dress floating too, and the golden hues making you sparkle. you looked ethereal, like an angel descending from the heavens.
his angel.
as you reached closer to the yacht, charles walked up to you, offering you his hand to step in.
you took it with a smile trying not to blush at how handsome he looked. he was wearing a baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black pants. his hair looked tousled from the wind, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with happiness at seeing you. you found yourself unable to suppress your smile, cheeks hurting from the wide smile on your face.
you had to admit, although you were trying to stay away to protect your feelings, you were happiest when you were with him.
"hello cherie. ive missed you" charles was the first to speak, pulling you into a hug.
you lingered in the warmth of his embrace, relishing the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne. you hoped he wouldn't notice how you were so desperately trying to keep yourself together, to prevent yourself from melting into the man.
charles wasn't able to keep it together either. he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your perfume, which he recognised to be the ysl libre he had got you hooked into. he felt the most comforted and safe in your arms and your embrace, and so the both of you stayed like that for a moment longer, revelling the company of each other.
when you finally broke away, your heartbeats had increased and a giddy happiness has taken over the both of you, as charles led you to the table he had set for the two of you.
"oh wow... charles you didn't have to do all this! it isn't even my birthday" you laughed, taken aback at the sweet gesture.
"i just wanted to spoil my favourite girl a little" he said, throwing you a wink that had your cheeks heating up and your heart fluttering in your chest.
"well i won't say no to that" you giggled, and then laughed as he pulled your chairs for you.
"oh my what a gentleman. who would believe you once tipped me in class for trying to take your seat" you said, throwing him a smirk.
"hey i didn't trip you, your foot was just in the way" he chided, grinning at you.
"mmhm, for sure. what about the time you dumped red paint on my hair because you were upset i 'stole' thur from you? or the time you put gum in my hair? or the time you coloured over my poster of queen because you were tired of me singing bohemian rhapsody around the house?" you laughed back, watching him bury his face in his hands with a groan.
"cherie please don't remind me of what a terrible child i was" he whined pouring you a glass of wine.
"you were lovely. you just didn't use your brains at time" you smiled, and he rolled his eyes at you.
"you weren't an innocent angel either. what about the time you hid my remote control ferrari because I was giving it more attention than i was giving you?" he said and you squealed with laughter.
"i was a pretty needy friend, i admit" you giggled, and charles chuckled as well.
a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, broken only by charles serving you some carbonara.
the pair of you couldn't stop smiling at each other and you couldn't imagine how strange it would look to a stranger but you didn't care.
"ive missed you a lot" charles admitted after a beat of silence.
"ive missed you a lot as well" you sighed, twirling your pasta onto your fork.
"then why did you go radio silent for a while cherie?" he asked softly, and you noticed the flash of hurt in his eyes.
you sighed, looking beyond his green eyes to the sunset behind you. monaco always looked beautiful in the evening and at nightfall, and you took a moment's respite in the gorgeous colours, before turning back to face your best friend.
"i just needed to get away for a bit charles, focus on my music" you said, partially truthfully.
"but you focused on your music here too mom coeur" he said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. "was it me? did I do something?" he whispered, not knowing how to tell you he realised what he had done.
"oh no, charles, no you didn't i- i just.. i needed some space and im sorry i didn't tell you I was going to LA" you said, heart breaking as you took his hands in your own.
"no i understand you needing space but I was just surprised you left in a rush, we haven't spoken in so long" charles said, running his thumb over your knuckles.
the anticipation grew, as the both of you looked deep into each other's eyes,silent apologies shared between the two of you.
it was a moment of vulnerability like no other, where the both of you prepared (unbeknownst to the other) to bare your deepest emotions, risking it all for the chance that the other might feel the same way. yet amidst the nervousness, there was a sense of hope, a glimmer of anticipation, because you both know that what you were about to say had the power to change your lives forever.
"i have to-"
"i need to-"
the both of you spoke at once, eliciting giggles from each other.
"you go first" you whispered, keeping your hands interlocked, not wanting to let go.
"okay" charles whispered back, before taking a deep breath.
"y/n, ma cherie, ive carried these feelings for you like a secret treasure, buried deep within the chambers of my heart. today, i have managed to find the courage to unearth them, to let them shine as brightly as the stars that have witnessed our shared moments. you've been the compass of my life, guiding me through storms and sunshine, and in the quiet spaces between our laughter and shared dreams, my affection for you has grown into something I can no longer contain.
it's not merely friendship that binds us, but a love that transcends boundaries. your smile brightens my darkest days, and your laughter is a melody that dances through my soul. your kindness and understanding have been the pillars of my strength, and your presence, a soothing balm to my every wound. with each passing day, my love for you has deepened, filling every corner of my being.
ive hesitated for so long, fearing that these words would jeopardize the beautiful connection we share. but, ma cherie, i cannot deny what my heart knows is true.
i love you.
not just as a friend, but with a love that defies definition, a love that cherishes your essence, your flaws, and your dreams. i want to be more than a friend. i want to be the one who holds your hand through life's journey, the one who shares your triumphs and cradles your sorrows.
i know this is a lot to take in, and i understand if it brings uncertainty or fear, because i have felt the weight of those emotions. but amour, i don't want keep this truth hidden. love is too precious to conceal. whether you choose to embrace it or not, know that my love for you is unwavering, and no matter what you feel, I'm telling you that ill always be there. I've known you since we were children, scraping our knees and colouring with each other, to teenagers with dreams we shared and hopes we talked about to adults who are still the best of friends.
it would be an honour if you reciprocated these feelings mon amour, and im sorry if this is too much. but i love you. and i had to let you know" charles concluded, drawing a deep breath at the end of his long confession.
you felt shock seeping through every bone in your body, but a warm shock that lit up your soul and made you feel like you were floating. tears rose to your eyes, glimmering and glistening, dripping softly down and charles moved to wipe them away softly.
"oh charles, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words. ive loved you for as long as I can remember and I love you, i love you so much. ive always known that what I feel for you is more than just friendship.
the words you've spoken, the feelings you've unveiled, they've stirred the deepest corners of my soul. In the tapestry of our friendship, ive discovered a love that has blossomed silently, mirroring the beauty of the most delicate of flowers, unnoticed until it's in full bloom. it is not just my heart but my very essence that loves you and I'm so thrilled by your confession my love.
your smile, the warmth of your laughter, the strength of your kindness—these have been the foundation of my happiness for so long. and now, i can finally tell you that my heart has danced to the same tune all along. all those years of pining have finally come to fruition and im so glad you told me this. i had to go away because i couldn't bear to see you with someone else, and as selfish as it sounds, i needed an escape otherwise i would have gone raving mad.
i love you charles. id want nothing more than for us to have future together. i love you more than i can put into words" you confessed, tears streaming down your face as you regarded the man in front of you.
charles too, had tears in his eyes, and the utmost love and adoration in his eyes. never had he ever looked at you like that before, as if you were the sun moon and the stars.
"je t'aime cherie, je t'aime" he whispered, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss to them.
"je t'aime ma vie" you whispered back, basking in the warmth of the moment.
"papa would be so happy" charles admitted, pushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "you know, he once told me that he and uncle theo also wished for us to get together. finally their wish came true" he smiled and you felt a new stream of tears run down your cheeks.
"papa told me too, when he was ill, that you and i belong together. mama tells me even today" you said, sniffling softly.
charles moved so he could help you out of your chair, leading you out to the deck.
he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close as you let your head drop onto his shoulder.
"can I kiss you?" he whispered, hand reaching up to caress your cheek.
"please" you managed to breathe out, before feeling his soft lips press against yours, just as they had when you shared the salty kiss under the playground slide, but this time it was deeper, more meaningful and full of love.
his hands slipped to your hips, one pulling you in so close you were almost moulded into him, while the other gently caressed your cheek. you let your hand rest on his waist, and the other on his neck, softly pulling him closer.
he deepened the kiss, gently sliding his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft gasp from you as he traced delicate patterns on your back.
the kiss only grew more urgent and charles let his hands wander, frantic to feel you, years of longing piling up and finally spilling out.
when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, you finally broke apart panting, still cocooned into each other, chests heaving together.
"ive been wanting to do that for ages" charles panted, pressing soft kisses to your face and forehead, making you giggle when he kissed your nose.
"I've been wanting you to do that for ages too" you said, earning a laugh from him. you settled back down against his shoulder, feeling full of love and ready to burst with how happy you were.
"i love you y/n" he said, sincerity clear in his tone. "i love you too, charles" you whispered, pulling him back down for another kiss.
against the skyline of monaco, you let your eyes close, comforted by the man whose arms you were in, relishing the feeling of being so deeply in love with someone who loved you back with so much passion.
in that moment, love felt like the gentle whisper of two hearts, sharing their secrets beneath the starry canvas of the monaco sky.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
back at pascale's apartment, arthur bounced his foot impatiently, looking out to the window at the sea.
"do you think he's told her yet?" he asked lorenzo, who was patiently reading a book on the couch.
"i don't know arthur i haven't heard anything" he replied, chuckling at his brother's impatience. "why is it taking so long' arthur whined, looking at the clock.
carla rolled her eyes at him, "thur, let them be, they're going to be all romantic and emotional and I'm sure they'll tell you soon" she said just as patiently, earning a smile from pascale.
"I'm sure charles will tell us soon cherie" she told her youngest soon, patting him on the head.
charlotte laughed from the corner, "i don't know whose more excited, charles or arthur" and the room burst into laughter.
"we have all been waiting for this day for ages" lorenzo said, smiling around at everyone.
"your papa and i always knew this day would come, and so did theo and laura. we had hoped they would get together" pascale said softly, a gentle smile on her face.
the group took a moment to reminisce on all the pining they'd had to endure.
the silence in the room was broken by the sound of lorenzo's phone ringing and he picked it up when he saw charles contact.
"salut frère, l'as-tu fait ? lui as-tu dit ?" hello brother, did you do it? did you tell her lorenzo asked and arthur leapt over the couch to hear what charles said next.
"oui" charles smiled, and chuckled when the room descended into chaos.
arthur was whooping, charlotte and carla were offering congratulations and pascale was smiling so brightly, telling her son her congratulations as well. lorenzo laughed and congratulated his brother as well, before telling him they'd give the new couple some time before the entire family descended upon them.
he knew charles would appreciate some time and that y/n would too.
"okay let's go see them and-" arthur began before carla laughed and tutted him.
"amour, laissons-leur de l'espace aujourd'hui, d'accord? nous pouvons aller les féliciter demain." love, let's give the two of them some space today okay? we can go and congratulate them tomorrow
grumbling a little bit still super excited arthur accepted defeat and started bidding goodbye to the family.
one by one they all left, leaving pascale with a bright smile on her face.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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liked by charlesleclerc, kika.gomes, gigihadid, taylorswift, lilymunihe, bellahadid, and 9,808,765 others
@yourinstgram - only about a decade and a half in the making but finally told the love of life that he's the love of my life. je t'aime ma vie ♥️
tagged - charlesleclerc
charlesleclerc - i love you, mon cherie, thank you for making me the happiest man alive.
-@yourinstagram - i love you too ma vie. forever yours ❤️
-charleslecerc - forever yours ❤️
user38 : HOLD THE FRONT DOOR WHAT THE FUCK
user87: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL CHARLESY/N NATION RISE
user33 : oh my god oh my god they're finally together im crying MOMMY AND DADDY
-user13: the duality 😭
kika.gomes : so happy for you two!! finally no more pining 🙄 double date soon? ❤️ love u bbg
-@yourintagram - thank you kika, i love u too babes and OMG YES double date
lilymunihe : baby you deserve the whole world and im so happy for u both. love to you always but you're still mine 😘
-@yourinstagram : ofc honey
-charlesleclerc : hey
-alexalbon : hey
-lilymunihe : babe no look away
-pierregasly : alexalbon they always do this bro
pierregasly : congrats you two!! have to celebrate soon!
-@yourinstagram : thank you pierre! bring kika and come over anytime ❤️
sabrinacarpenter - omg babes congratulations! so happy for you two!! 🩷🫶🏼
bellahadid : congratulations beautiful! wishing you happiness always 💜
lewishamilton : congratulations 🩷 knew everything would work out!!
-@yourinstagram : thank you for everything lewis, come and hang out with us soon!! bring roscoe please i miss my little buddy
-lewishamilton : roscoe misses you too
-roscoelovescoco : me loves you y/ns!
-@yourinstagram : 😭❤️ i love you too roscoe
joris.trouche : congratulations mon ami, best to you two always
-@yourinstagram : thank you joris 🩷
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liked by leclercpascale, joris.trouche, pierregasly, arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 8,700,103 others
charlesleclerc : mon amour, i have loved you since i knew what the word meant. you are my everything. i love you.
yourinstagram : je t'aime ♥️ id spend all my lives with you ♥️
user444: the way he looks at her 🥹
user903: lord i see what you have done for others...
user676 : BI PANIC BI PANIC BI PANIC
user38: so glad they're finally together I've been rooting for ages
user45: mama y papa mama y papa
carlossainz : congratulations cabron, you deserve this happiness ❤️
arthurleclerc: so happy to finally have her officially in the family, took you long enough 🙄
-user339 : you tell him arthur
joris.trouche : allez! love to the both of you always ❤️
leclercpascale : felicitations, restez heureux et rendez-vous toujours heureux ♥️
-charlesleclerc : merci maman ♥️
-yourinstagram : merci maman 🥺❤️
scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️
landonorris : thank God you finally asked her out i was going to do it for you
danielricciardo : glad to see you finally asked her out!!
charlotte2304 : shes amazing, don't hurt her or carla and i will have words with you
-carlabrocker : 💪🏻 🔪
-yourinstagram : 😂😂
ricciardoberetta : martas asking when are we double dating 😂
user344 : new hottest couple in the paddock alert!!
user23 : idk if i wanna be her or him or sandwiched in between
user45 : they ARE the moment!!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n - there's going to be one more part but i hope you liked it!!! much love 😘
likes comments reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
TAGS
f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion @ivegotparticulartaste
everything -@roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird
something just like this - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @moon-enthusiast @crlsummer @superlegend216 @electrobutterfly @formula1mount @f1lov3r @livster @inkfablesandstories @ssararuffoni
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a DM 🩷
365 notes · View notes
chuchuminn · 2 months
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What if the Master was a child?
I think an hc is due, so here you go!! Fem!Master (an adorable one + kinda puppy/kitty like)
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So, let's say that Master is around 4-5 years old.
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Flashback..
An adorable little girl was walking around with her mom, but then saw a cat with a ring. Obviously attracted because of childrenly antics, she touched the cat, the cat spoke to her, and she got a golden ring. Then, she was transported to a mansion while her mom wasn't looking.
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First Floor
Berrien
• I think that Berrien would most likely take care of you for the most part, since he welcomed you.
• Whenever you're scared at night, he takes you to their room on the first floor and lets you sleep with him. Also makes you some warm milk to help you sleep.
• Definitely thinks you're adorable. Who could not think a child like you isn't adorable?
"Master..? Are you scared? Here, have some warm milk, and you can also stay with me if you want.."
Lono
• Cooks whatever you want, whenever you want. Of course, a child needs lots of food to grow up, right?
• Gives you headpats often to see your reaction.
• Would make designs on your food, like making your steak into dinosaur by cutting it up like so, or even desserts that look like your favorite animals, to make you happy.
"Oh, Master! You said ya wanted some cupcakes, so I made 'em earlier! I'll get them right now, just hold on a sec!"
Bastien
• He would most likely make little wooden dolls so you can play with them.
• Gifts you blankets, toys, or even a whole dollhouse with the Grosvaner's money.
• Sometimes when he wakes up from sleeping in the most randomest place ever, he sees you beside him.
"Master.. For you. I made them.. Do you like it? I heard you liked dolls."
Cutscene:
"Ah! Berrien, Master's here?" Lono said. "Shh, she's sleeping, Lono.." Berrien replied, continuing to hold you close. "She looks cute..." Bastien whispered, as both him and Lono were surrounding the two of you. You moved a bit, then nuzzling into Berrien adorably. They all cooed.
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Second Floor
Haures
• He likes playing with you, and sees you as his little sister. (RIP TRICIA)
• Decorated your room for you after you answered a few questions, and you loved it.
• Sometimes he goes out and buys gifts for you like clothes or accessories and maybe jewelry.
"Maste- Princess! I have come to save you, as I am the Honorable Knight, Haures! Hiya!" (p.s. he punched boschi after that)
Fennesz
• He likes reading books to you before you sleep :3
• Sometimes he takes you to the mansion's library so you can read things.
• He plays with you sometimes by throwing you up in the air or playing tea party. (this man is a muscle beast but a gigantic softie as well)
"Then they both lived happy ever after... The end. Oh? Haha.. She's already sleeping. Good night, and sweet dreams, Master.."
Ammon
• Absolutely would not let you play near the rose bushes, because you'll get hurt.
• He also helped out decorating your room, with your favorite flowers.
• Sometimes he makes a few bouquets for you and places them in your bedroom.
"Boschi, what are you-?! Oh, Master! Please don't go near there, like, you'll get hurt!"
Boschi
• Decorated your room as well with Ammon and Haures.
• Whenever he steals candy from Haures, he gives some to you.
• Sometimes he lets you play with his prosthetic arm, and he even thinks you're like a puppy.
"Master, you like this one? Okay, cool. HAURES, GO PUT IT UP RIGHT NOW!"
Cutscene
"Oh, my! What an elegant little princess you are!" Fennesz said, drinking imaginary tea while sitting in front of you. "You are so beautiful, like, I can't stop staring at you!" Ammon followed, also drinking this imaginary tea. "How could you try to hurt the princess?!" Haures shouted, pointing a toy sword at Boschi. "Haha, watch me!" Boschi replied.
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Third floor
Lucas
• Whenever he's drinking wine in front of you, he makes sure to tell you it's "Grown up Juice".
• He would comfort you and clean you up whenever you get hurt.
• Sometimes he gives you grape juice when you ask for the "Grown up Juice".
"Ah, you're here, Master. Hmm~? This~? This is "Grown up Juice"~ It's for grown ups, so you can't have it yet, Master."
Lamli
• You know this guy is super playful, so of course he ADORES playing with you!
• Would immediately apologize if you started crying because of his teasing.
• Whenever you do something cute he gives you a candy.
"Uh oh~! You found me Master! Now, now, it's my turn to seek! I'll start counting, so go and hide now, Master, or I'll find you~!"
Nac
• Sometimes his way of speaking makes you confused, but that's fine.
• He likes calling you a princess.
• Lucas scolds him once in a while for confusing you.
"-Nac speaking in riddles- Mm.. Huh..? - (Master) Nac, please don't say that much to Master. She's still young. - (Lucas)"
Cutscene
"Hic..! Ung.." You spoke, tears falling down your eyes. "I know, Master, but after this you'll be okay." Lucas said, cleaning up all the wounds. Apparently you had been playing in the garden, then falling down. "Master, I'll give you candy after this!" Lamli followed, petting your head. "Do not fret Master, you will be feeling splendid after." Nac then continued, wiping your tears.
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Basement
Miyaji
• He also takes care of you since he's quite fond of kids. He teaches you etiquette too.
• Whenever Lucas is drunk when you're hurt, he takes care of you.
• Lato and Flure don't let him cook for you so you won't experience hell on your little tongue.
"Okay, Master. Now, when a stranger talks to you, what do you say?" "Stop, cweepy persown!" You replied. "Great job, Master. Here's a cookie for you."
Flure
• He loves making clothes for you, you're the perfict fit for any style!
• He lets you watch whenever he's making some new clothes.
• Flure loves showing off your charm as a child when you're wearing his clothes.
"Aww, Master! You look so adorable in these clothes! I'll make more of these with different colors and features later!"
Lato
• Surprisingly, Lato took a liking to you, and now he loves talking to you.
• Whenever that time comes, the butlers don't let you talk to him, and that makes you sad.
• He sneaked out with you once, but he got scolded by Haures and Miyaji.
"Master~~ What are you doing? Are you playing? Let me join. What do I do here? Oh, so you have to do that? Okay."
Cutscene
"Now, Master, do a curtsy." Miyaji said, which you followed, then doing a curtsy. "Good job, Master." Miyaji praised. "She's so adorable in that dress!" Flure exclaimed, seeming proud of you and his work. "You're right Flure, she is cute." Lato followed, petting your head and poking your cheek.
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Villa
Yuuhan
• He loves making you happy, and treating you to things once in a while.
• Always scolds Hanamaru, which makes you feel bad.
• Yuuhan is a bit more protective of you than the others.
"Master, I bought some dessert today. Would you like some? Oh, still full? It's fine, we can save it for later."
Teddy
• He's like a big brother to you, and he always shows off.
• Big teddy bear that hugs you a lot.
• Loves it when you're doing cute stuff.
"Master, look at this! *fleexx...* Isn't it cool! Also, take a look! We found something on our mission! Do you want it? You can have it, Master!"
Hanamaru
• Like Miyaji, Hanamaru is well experienced with children, so he also takes care of you. He even styles your hair once in a while.
• He gives you tea with your snacks.
• Sometimes he gets scolded for sneaking outside and grabbing you some snacks.
"You want this hairstyle? Okay, I can do it. Were you having fun earlier, Master?"
Cutscene
"Uhm.. So.. It's like this, and then this, then..." Teddy muttered, attempting to braid your hair. "Teddy, what in the world is this?" Hanamaru replied, staring at him. "Don't be so rude, Hanamaru. He needs experience." Yuuhan then said.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
this is the end of the hcs pookies!! maybe ill make more posts of this headcanon hehe
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starseungs · 1 year
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➳ invisible ties. ksm
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 ೃ࿔₊• pairing | kim seungmin x gn!reader
not all childhood friends are known as such. those with invisible ties also exist, a bittersweet reminder of such friendship.
 ೃ࿔₊• genre | hurt-comfort, sprinkle of angst, fluff(?), childhood friends to lovers, highschool au, popular!seungmin — 2.6k words
 ೃ࿔₊• warnings | self doubt, a whole lot of doubts in general, misunderstandings (with a happy ending)
 ೃ࿔₊• note | this is #1 on my skz as types of childhood friends to lovers series! tbh i didn't think i was going to like how i wrote this as much as i actually do but its one of my favorites now-
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Seungmin had always been a talented guy. He had a knack for being good at whatever you would throw at him, proving to you that he could, in fact, probably do anything. But if there was one thing Seungmin was a total master at, it would be getting on people's good sides—heck, even just the bare minimum of gaining their attention. He was a shining star in everyone's eyes. That was the kind of guy Seungmin was.
So it was to absolutely no one's surprise that he was always considered popular, even as a kid in kindergarten.
That small neighborhood kindergarten was also where you met Seungmin. At the age of five, your little brain had already decided that making friends was a social construct, stubbornly refusing to interact with the other kids for more than three minutes. You were quite an interesting child, to say the least. And maybe that was why five-year-old Seungmin quickly took an interest in you—making it his life's goal to befriend the "shy kid" in class. The teachers would actually beg to differ with that title. You weren't shy, they said. Just "troubled."
As if that changed anything (and it really didn't.)
Yet, Seungmin did what no other kid would have dreamed of attempting, aka, interacting with you. And boy, did he do it with the passion of an Olympic athlete desperate for a medal. The five-year-old was determined to make you his friend—which, now that you think about it, maybe could have just been his pride; not wanting to accept that he couldn't charm someone. Kim Seungmin was the center of attention; that was just his natural role in life. But he stuck to his goal anyway, so you applaud him for his determination on that one. There were a lot of things to describe Seungmin, and being persistent was certainly on the list.
From sitting with you during activities to following you around on the playground, Seungmin would not leave you alone at all. He would trail behind you like a lost puppy (to be fair, he does resemble one) throughout most of the day, even though you barely looked back and acknowledged him. The only time you ever did so was when you got annoyed and told him to go away. And he did.
For about six minutes, before you had someone tailing you again. 
One day, you'd just had enough of his antics, already planning to blow up without a single remorse on the poor guy to stop all this nonsense—up until he suddenly presented you with a pen with your favorite cartoon character on it, saying it was a gift he got you. Apparently, he begged his mom to buy it as a gift for you because you were the first thing he thought of the moment he saw the pen's design. Young you immediately felt so bad for plotting war on him only a few minutes back, your resolve folding only seconds later.
Seungmin wasn't that bad, you remember convincing yourself.
Your view of Seungmin turned a complete one-eighty after that event. It was then that you finally accepted his advances and allowed the friendship to start. Surprisingly, it survived past kindergarten all the way to elementary—something you probably should have expected since you even ended up in the same grade school (courtesy of your dear mother, who—like everyone else—took a liking to Seungmin and wanted you to keep being friends with him.)
Seungmin was as popular as ever, earning countless recognitions left and right for anything and everything under the sun. The complete opposite of you, who your classmates often forget was even there in the first place. You didn't mind, of course—still bearing the same mindset you had in kindergarten. As long as you had Seungmin, everything was fine. You didn't need anyone else; you'd already made it through life without your only friend before he even remembered your name. It's not like they were really needed.
Right? 
That's what you originally thought, anyway. Yet, there was something you failed to notice up until the two of you reached middle school. And boy, were you in for a rude awakening. One that was worse than hearing your father turn the TV on at the break of dawn, with a volume louder than you flushing the toilet at midnight.
The first seed of doubt was planted during ninth grade, when you overheard a group of girls from your class talking about Seungmin. It wasn't long 'til you understood that they were his admirers, seeing as they were blatantly conversing about how Seungmin looked very attractive during baseball practice yesterday. How they could find him handsome in all his sweaty glory is beyond you. He honestly just looked like a whole bucket of water was dumped on him. But you guess there was always something for everyone, and continued to listen in. After all, even you knew that the Kim Seungmin of your school was pretty well-known as the "campus crush."
So when one of the girls mentioned wanting to give him a drink during today's practice break, you decided to give them money-worthy information—revealing your best friend's favorite drink. You knew that Seungmin wasn't very vocal about his own preferences, very much aware of how that would only cause more problems for him—his words, not yours. If his middle school fan club heard him complaining about them at the kitchen counter, shuddering over the sheer thought of what they could and are capable of doing, they'd be floored.
It was merely a short comment. "Seungmin likes coffee beverages," was all you inserted into their (rather loud) conversation. You had no particular expectation of the response you were going to get, but the one you actually got caught you off guard. That was because instead of focusing on the detail you had just dropped, they were more dumbfounded by the fact that you even knew that at all. What, did they think you were a stalker or something? Seungmin's fangirl deep inside? You knew what drinks he liked because he was your best friend—oh.
That was the exact moment you realized: in the eyes of almost everyone else, you and Seungmin had no connection other than being schoolmates in the same batch.
All your interactions with Seungmin were after school: you would go to school and home together, as well as hang out on free days. But you had little to no contact once you entered the school gates, which was where Seungmin normally bid you farewell to head straight towards his other friends. And that was fine with you. Not everything has to be shoved in people's faces.
You could survive even without your and Seungmin's friendship being public knowledge.
Except you soon come to the conclusion that you actually do—because that ugly green and sticky feeling in your stomach (which you later recognized as envy) was loudly screaming every time you heard one of his friends get addressed as "Seungmin's friend." Now, getting your identity watered down to being classified as merely a friend of another person is something that would greatly piss other people off, but you could care less. Your brain was experiencing tunnel vision on the fact that these people could be seen as Seungmin's friends by everyone else while you were stuck hiding in the shadows. It was eating you alive at that point; you wanted to stand right beside him too, like the "best friend" you claimed you were.
The ache grew even more during high school, when you found out you had formed romantic feelings towards Seungmin. It was sudden—or maybe not. Who knows? All you did know was that the realization crashed into you like a speeding bullet train. Seungmin wasn't even doing anything noteworthy—simply on the verge of dozing off during one of your many study sessions. But you found yourself focusing on little intricate details, such as the way he held the pen in a way that made him look like he was ready to write anytime in the next second despite his eyelids drooping oh-so-endearingly to the point that it warmed your heart (and face.)
Something about him that day was making you feel things you knew you shouldn't be feeling. And the mere knowledge of this terrified you, because how could you? If you couldn't even be known as his friend, how could you ever become his lover? And so you chose the most rational course of action.
To distance yourself from him.
Fine, maybe that wasn't the best decision you ever made. Especially not when the Kim Seungmin himself starts chasing you around school just to get you to talk to him. The whole deal greatly reminded you of your younger years, when it all started. And maybe that was why you folded once again, exactly like you did back then.
"Y/N, just talk to me," you remember his exhausted plea along the school's covered pathway, the one connected to the gym where the rest of your classmates were. Why was he even here? His class didn't have the same PE schedule as yours—if anything, you remember from the short conversation you had with Seungmin back at the start of the school year that they had math during this time (a detail you scolded yourself over, because why did you know that?)
His softening grip on your arm brought you back to reality, effectively making you turn and finally look at him. What you saw broke your heart entirely. Seungmin, the Kim Seungmin, campus crush, the main character of everyone's lives, was barely holding back his tears from escaping his glistening eyes, swirling with anxiousness and fear. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked in a fragile tone, his voice so small and soft it was practically a whisper—almost as if he were any louder, you'd fade away into the wind and leave him. "If I did, please tell me. I—I don't want to lose you," Seungmin choked out, the words feeling so heavy on his mouth. The same words he spent days dreading the implications of, nights he lost sleep over from the overwhelming emotion.
To you and everyone else who knew him, Kim Seungmin was a bright light. Yet, right now, only for your eyes—he was the dimmest he had ever been.
"No. There's nothing wrong," you lied through your teeth, tearing yourself apart inside for subjecting him to another kind of pain; one that he wasn't even aware of yet. All you had to do was cover it up with a white lie, "I was just—I was just being stupid. This thing... It was bothering me so much. So, I just wanted to be alone. That's all."
"I'm sorry," were the final words of your guilt-laced excuse. You didn't know how you even got through the whole thing. At this point, you don't even think you deserved to be called Seungmin's friend anymore. He trusted you, but you betrayed him with lies. Maybe the shadows really were the right place for you. A place where you could enjoy everything you desired, even in the midst of complete darkness.
These thoughts stayed as you relayed every single detail of your fully made-up concern to Seungmin after school.
Both of your lives returned to normal after that. Or at least, how normal it would be for you after the shocking revelation. You often found yourself worrying over almost everything, overthinking even the smallest of details. It certainly didn't help that Seungmin had been acting all weird lately—unconsciously avoiding your eyes when you spoke to him, and getting all fidgety when you two were alone. Maybe it was the weeks of silently doubting the validity of your friendship, or the dismay of feeling like he wanted to be anywhere else other than with you during your hangouts, that you finally burst out crying in front of him one day.
Seungmin was completely rattled, not expecting you to suddenly break down in his room while you two were watching a comedy movie. One would think that you were supposed to be laughing; that's because you actually should have been—not full on sobbing. Yet when he eventually got you to pour out everything you've been holding back, his mind went into static.
All he could say was that his thoughts greatly differed from yours.
This whole time, he believed that just like in kindergarten, you would have preferred him to stay away from you in school—wanting to attract as little attention as possible; something that was unavoidable if you were to be known as someone connected to him. So, for that reason, he kept his distance, opting to make up for the time you spent practically ignoring each other by walking you to and from school, treating you to small meals and snacks along the way, and hanging out whenever you both were free.
Don't get him wrong, though; his actions weren't just purely platonic. Seungmin had actually liked you since elementary school but decided to keep it to himself until you showed any signs of returning the sentiment. Admittedly, he first approached you with the aim of being friends for a petty reason. "Y/N doesn't seem to like you, Seungmin," he recalls as clearly as a bright day. The observation came from one of his classmates back in kindergarten, and as a child used to receiving only love, Seungmin was not about to accept not earning yours.
Yet, as time went on, he soon realized that you were the only one who actually stuck by him (aside from his family, of course.) Seungmin never wanted to admit it, but he grew quite attached to you—to the point that if someone asked him if he saw you in his future, he would one-hundred percent say yes without any hesitation at all.
You were a very precious person to him, and there was no denying it.
During elementary years, Seungmin's fondness turned into something more. He wasn't ignorant, even as a child; he knew well what crushes were and had no issue classifying you as his. At that time, though, just like any other kid, he didn't dwell too much on it—opting to enjoy growing up with you rather than bother himself with feelings that he believed didn't need to be complicated.
Seungmin's not-so-platonic emotions directed towards you were placed to the side, unmoving and silenced. It stayed there until high school—when they pushed their way back to the forefront of his mind, where there was no escaping it. The reason? Your decision to distance yourself from him.
In school was one thing, but for you to avoid him outside of it? Unheard of. There was only one time you two were separated for this long, and that was back before you even became friends. Seungmin was definitely suffering with each passing day, but he still chased you. Giving up was not a choice when you were probably hurting too. The thought pained him more than he wanted it to be.
Though the memory of him revealing his raw emotions to you in such a manner was sort of humiliating (but because it was you, he felt less judged); Seungmin didn't regret it one bit. Still, he found it hard to act normally after all that. Having his romantic feelings out in a place where he could barely contain them was more difficult than he thought. Every moment with you just felt so overwhelming—he had to restrain himself from smothering you in a tight hug and never letting you go.
But he didn't need to hide it anymore. 
"You're worth more to me than you'll ever know," he says, cupping your face gently as you hiccup through muffled apologies, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks like waves. Seungmin placed a feathery kiss on your forehead, the unexpected feeling taking you out of your own spiraling thoughts of negativity to notice that his hands were trembling—along with his wavering voice. "I'm sorry too," he swallowed, sensing his emotions rising as a result of your sniffling. "I'll do my best to never let you feel that way again."
"So give us another chance, please."
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mastertag 🏷️ :
@h0neydewmoon @starzzns @lhskokoro @bookishcalls
— let me know if you want to be added or removed^^
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myseungsunglove · 4 months
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Ksm | Let Me Count the Ways
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Pairing: Stray Kids just ADORING Kim Seungmin
Warnings: Fluffy adoration of one Kim Seungmin 
Word Count:  2k words 
𖠫Summary: Just a brief recounting of all the ways I believe that each member absolutely adores Kim Seungmin and thinks that the sun sets in his beautiful eyes and smile. These are just my observations and opinions. If you see something different, that’s okay. You can. I just can’t help but see the way they each adore him in unique ways and I love that Seungmin is so so loved. He deserves the whole entire world, honestly. 
✎A/N✎: I was having a brief discussion with @gimmeurtmi  about how I think that all of the members are absolutely whipped for Seungmin-ah and think the sun rises and sets in his beautiful smile and eyes. They nudged me into writing up a “brief essay” on all the ways I think SKZ absolutely adores Kim Seungmin and I think you should too. Doesn’t really count as a fic and no one will read it but that matters not. I smiled like a fool while writing it.
◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈
「©  December 3, 2023 by myseungsungheart」
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♡Chan - the only way you’d miss how much Chan loves and adores Seungmin is if you squeezed your eyes shut, plugged your ears, and started screaming at the top of your lungs to drown out the affection he gives Seungmin every minute he can. This man can not keep his hands off of Seungmin and he has admitted it more than once that he loves hugging Seungmin every chance he gets. If you take one look at Chan’s face, you can see how much he admires and loves Seungmin’s antics and smile and how proud he is of his hard work and dedication to his craft and the boys. Even when Seungmin is ribbing Chan about his age, Chan can’t help but smile, his eyes disappearing into half moon crescents as he pretends to be annoyed by Seungmin’s teasing. Chan trusts Seungmin in an emotional way that he doesn’t fully do with the other members. He’s mentioned this briefly before as well. There is something about Seungmin that makes everyone just feel safe, even the best leader Bang Chan. I’m certain that Bang Chan would lay in front of a truck for any of these boys, but there is something about Seungmin that just screams for him to protect. He’ll never really understand it himself, because the man is an absolute menace and holy terror sometimes, but at the end of the day he is Chan’s sweet puppy Seungmin whom he would never let anyone harm. 
♡Lee Know - the way he adores Seungmin has been subtle over the years thanks to their divorced not divorced narrative within skz family. You can look back to the beginnings of Stray Kids to see how closely bonded these two have always been. Kim Seungmin was the first member that Lee Know met, and they clearly became fast friends in their pre-debut days, Seungmin not hesitating to show Lee Know the ropes and help him navigate this new world of being a trainee. While Lee Know puts up this facade of finding Seungmin irritating, he almost always picks Seungmin when someone asks him a question that requires him to pick a member of Stray Kids. He does so with a fond, albeit teasing, smile on his face. He can’t help the way his eyes light up when he is talking about Seungmin. Then there is the matter of their unspoken communication during interviews. The two are always peaking at each other, giving sly smirks and giggles at the other while sitting through interviews. Seungmin seems to fluster Lee Know at times, his ears going red along with his cheeks under Seungmin’s gaze. And don’t get me started on all the couple esq. Shit they do. From having matching phone cases, shoes, hoodies and Jackets and the list goes on. These two are so alike it’s wild. They both take care of each other, especially behind the scenes and even more so lately in front of the camera as well. When Lee Know was having a rough time after the accident, you can see several times when Seungmin does everything in his power to pull a smile onto Lee Know’s face during a concert. And in true Lee Know fashion, he can’t help but smile big and beautiful when Kim Seungmin smiles in his direction or acts cute and sweet to make him happy. Afterall, anyone would be crazy not to giggle at Kim Seungmin at any given moment of the day, really. They do live together, after all, so they know each other’s habits well and at the end of the day, it’s evident that despite living together, they are still incredibly fond of each other. Sometimes you can catch Lee Know just gazing fondly at Seungmin when he thinks no one is looking and it is just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. 
♡Changbin - his love for Seungmin I liken to that of an older brother, but it’s no less powerful then that of the other members. Seungmin and Changbin easily get under each other’s skin, but you can tell that Seungmin really trusts Changbin and seeks him out any chance he can. Changbin can’t stay away from Seungmin no matter how hard he tries. The way he always has to be touching him, whether its putting him in a gentle, or not so gentle, headlock, grabbing his neck and whispering to him during a concert or some other public moment, or just letting Seungmin use as a cozy chair, Changbin eats up how Seungmin needs him and wants his attention. I think that’s why he tortures Seungmin the way he does, he WANTS Seungmin’s attention even if it means being teased relentlessly. That is their love language. 
♡Hyunjin - Seungmin most easily lets his guard down with Hyunjin and sometimes probably doesn’t realize he is doing it. Hyunjin adores just about everything that Seungmin does and is one of the only members that Hyunjin is openly affectionate with. He isn’t much for skinship but you wouldn’t really know that when it comes to his relationship with Seungmin. While he is rough and playful with both Felix and IN, there is something gentle about the way that he approaches Seungmin. His eyes are always so full of love when he watches Seungmin sing or talk. They sparkle like Seungmin’s being contains the whole universe. It’s enough to make any sane person cry. Hyunjin is always paying attention to whatever Seungmin is doing. When he sits next to him, he just has to have his arm around his shoulder or waist or touching him in any way he can, hugging Seungmin into him right where he belongs. He showers Seungmin with affection and compliments the way that Seungmin showers everyone else. Hyunjin really appreciates the way Seungmin has made his life better. He recognizes how Seungmin has made him a better person without even meaning to. He admires everything about Seungmin and isn’t afraid to tell him exactly that. Hyunjin affectionately refers to Seungmin as his singer. The admiration he has for Seungmin’s beautiful voice is lovely. Hyunjin seeks Seungmin out in emotional times, not afraid to wrap his arms around him and pull him into a hug. If you watch close, the way Hyunjin gazes at Seungmin when he thinks no one is watching is next level oh my god he’s beautiful and I think I love him so so much. Hyunjin is the very definition of heart eyes when looking fondly at Seungmin. His singer. No one can take Seungmin away from him, and frankly, I don’t think that Seungmin would let them because the way Seungmin lights up around Hyunjin is equally intense. Hyunjin may have been the one to utter the phrase “what do you even know?” but Seungmin feels the same for him, there for him when he needs to cry and emotionally supporting him in a way that make Hyunjin feel safe and loved. 
♡Han - Kim Seungmin will forever and always be Han Jisung’s boy crush Seungmin. Han can’t help but compliment Seungmin at every opportunity he gets, telling him that he really looks up to his work ethic and the way he works so hard for the members. Han can be the most real with Seungmin because at the end of the day, they are really very similar. Han values straightforward and honest communication and that is exactly what he gets with Seungmin. Neither of them have to sugar coat anything with the other, knowing exactly  where the line is of teasing and open honesty. You can often catch Han staring fondly at Seungmin, a starry appreciative look in his eyes. Han and Seungmin’s relationship reminds me of two genius twins who couldn’t be more different but are bonded in a way that no one will ever truly understand. Han sees Seungmin as a rival but a rival he can learn much from and make himself better as a result. Han also knows that he can trust Kim Seungmin with his life. All of the members understand this about Seungmin, going to him in their moments of crisis. Seungmin is always there for them, offering his support in whatever way that particular member needs it. Han knows that Seungmin is real and is never fake with him and that is why he trusts him during his most vulnerable times, knowing that Seungmin will support him with his whole heart. Han looks to Seungmin to push him to improve himself and constantly grow as a singer. He values Seungmin’s expertise and recognizes the value that he brings to the table as an artist and singer. As a result, he trusts Seungmin explicitly knowing that Seungmin would never intentionally seek to harm him or wound him in any way. He leans on Seungmin in vocal moments, absolutely reveling in how their voices blend together and fit together magically. Seungmin is someone that Han loves to work with from a creative standpoint because they both see the creative process similarly even though they are polar opposites in so many ways. He trusts that Seungmin will pull his weight and add value to any project that he contributes to. He trusts him so much that he even writes pieces of songs and sometimes whole songs for him because he thinks a part or melody will work beautifully for Seungmin. He seeks Seungmin’s approval a lot because he values his opinion and holds it in such high regard. Han is endlessly proud of Seungmin and his abilities and will tell anyone who will listen. It doesn’t hurt that he thinks Seungmin is adorable and cute as a bonus. He will forever be his boy crush Kim Seungmin. 
♡Felix - The way Felix just loves to snuggle up to Seungmin is the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. When I look at the two of them, it’s a little like a small kitten and a giant golden retriever that have become best friends. The tiny kitten looks up at the golden retriever and isn’t intimidated by him. No no, instead he sees a soft fluffy friend that he can lean on at any time and knows that he can melt with a single cuddle. This is exactly how Felix is with Seungmin. Over and over, Felix chooses Seungmin because Seungmin is fun to be around and really just a big softie deep down. And frankly, Felix likes to shower Seungmin with love because he thinks Seungmin doesn’t let others shower him enough, but he knows Seungmin will never say no to him. Seungmin will be ready to push Felix away when he first cuddles up to him until he realizes it's Felix and he melts right into him and sometimes even pulls him closer. Living together, these two are also very aware of each other’s habits. 
♡IN - The way Innie looks up to Seungmin is enough to make your heart melt. He looks up to him in so many ways, especially for his work ethic and dedication to improve his craft in all areas of performance. Seungmin is one of the few members IN will let openly show him affection. Sure, he still pushes him away because that’s IN for you, but there is something about Seungmin’s charm that makes IN fold like a cheap suit. Even though IN may be the younger of the two, you can see his big brother instincts kicking in with Seungmin. Any time Seungmin needs help with something, IN is quick to intervene much like a big brother would. He takes care of Seungmin in a way that none of the other’s do because they all see him as such a diligent and hardworking member who knows how to take care of himself. Seungmin lets his guard down with IN a little, allowing himself to be taken care of. IN lets Seungmin look after him as well. Their bond is close and the way they are constantly ribbing each other about how ugly the other is honestly just screams adoration to me. One minute they’ll be calling each other ugly and the next they’re cooing at each other about how cute they are. These two are just so precious I could melt. 
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suguwuus · 1 month
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HI AL! Having connor date a fem!shy!reader, you can choose the cabin, would be so so cute if you could write that! Like, him being absurdedly clingy and sending her kisses or making as if they were strangers to flirt with her bc she's adorable and the whole camp being kind of like, "We get it connor- you love her, can we eat in peace/practice now" and reader being a tomato half the time but smiling at his antics. it would be amazing if you could!!
grips table this is the first time i'll write in this format so tell me if it's okay or wtv 😁☝ also the reader is a child of hephaestus !! happy (late) valentine's babes also this is so fucking LONG i hope this makes up for the inactivity and tardiness
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— clingy connor is the only correct connor sorry guys i just know he likes you just being around or vice versa. even if you're doing something else that he's not involved in, as long as he's in your presence he's happy.
"what do you think, y/n?" "it looks good! although i think you missed a part of the formula here. not that i memorized it exactly, it just looks...less than what i feel it usually is."
"you feel? haha, alright, let me—what's he doing here?" your half-sibling raised a brow at connor who stood behind you as you scanned some notes and formulas scribbled across blueprints that your half-sibling laid out for you.
connor waved. you shrugged and said, "he wanted to come with me, is it okay if he stays?"
your sibling gave him a skeptical look, but eventually agreed. for the next 15 minutes he just stood there while you worked, asking questions like "what does this part do" and "what's this symbol" to occasionally break the silence.
when you talked technical with your siblings, he nodded like he understood, when he actually didn't. he was satisfied with just hearing you speak confidently about something you were passionate about—your machines.
when you were done, you walked out of the cabin and he bid your half-sibling goodbye, leaving a few candies on her work desk to be nice. "that was fun! i love you, you're so cool." practically bouncing on his feet as you walked, he kissed your head and you felt your face burn up, feeling the eyes of your half-sibling on you.
— he follows you around like a puppy sometimes, it's really cute. he provides moral support too, if that helps. it's like having a cheerleader.
"go on," he murmured as he nudged the small of your back. the little present in your hands, a device that you yourself crafted for clarisse la rue, rested on a bed of straw inside a wooden case. it was multipurpose, serving as a pen, a swiss army knife, a lighter, a comb, a grappling hook, and a double-ended dagger of sorts. you didn't even know you had the abilities to make something like that, but in the end it was worth it. beautiful with designs around the handle with celestial bronze and leather, you hoped she'd at least appreciate it.
a few years ago clarisse had saved you in a monster attack while in the mortal world, and only now did you discover that it was her who took action. just in time, because she had gotten you on her team for capture the flag tonight and it gave you the perfect opportunity to approach her.
you squeezed the box with your fingers and went down to the training grounds, where clarisse was fighting with a practice dummy. she hacked away at its limbs and dislocated its jaw, showing off how much of a fighter she was. you swallowed and got closer.
you looked back to see connor, watching from a distance, and he made another gesture to get a little closer. you cleared your throat. "excuse me...clarisse? i wanted to, uh, give you something for that little accident at an amusement park a few years ago..."
it ended up going smoothly, with her even loving your gift so much she offered to give you extra dessert privileges that night in exchange for hers. every once in a while you'd see connor some distance behind her, giving you thumbs-ups and nodding.
when you were done, you walked back to connor slightly shaking, but with a smile on your face.
he pumped his fist in the air as soon as you were out of clarisse's line of sight. "good! that's my girl. told you she'd love it!" he clapped.
you chuckled softly. "i did it...!"
"YOU DID IT!" he repeated, louder this time, throwing his arms up and celebrating with you. "let's go swim, hm? you deserve a good cool-off." knowing how much you loved refreshing yourself in the lake, you smiled and nodded as he took your hand, already undoing the cargo vest you had over your camp shirt to prepare you for your dip in the lake.
— connor being the type to speak up for you for little things as well!! what a gentleman. he likes doing things for you, watching you get all warm and averting people's eyes. it's all lighthearted, he just likes to show off how much he loves you by doing things for you.
your eyes kept darting to the pillow next to some camper's legs. lou ellen was telling a story at the campfire—and she was damn good at it. she had everyone's attention, including the camper who had the old pillow you wanted so badly to hug.
"holy hades," connor whispered in awe as lou ellen continued to narrate. you weren't paying attention, so you hummed in inquiry. "she said she almost got jumped by the international police! man, i should ask for some tips—" he was shushed by the person sitting in front of him and he rolled his eyes, scrunching up his face. "what's the matter, baby?" he asked you.
"it's nothing," you murmured, tearing your eyes off the pillow, no matter how desperately you wanted to sit more comfortably. it wasn't worth bothering another person.
he nudged you. "hey."
"it's nothing!"
but he caught how your eyes flit to the camper's legs. he pointed at it and looked at you as if asking a question, and you mumbled something in affirmation. before you could stop him, he was reaching over and shaking the camper's shoulder. "mind if i take this? thanks." it was easy for him; all the camper did was nod and the pillow was placed in your lap.
"thanks," you mumbled as connor put his arm around you, now that you were both comfortable enough to listen to lou ellen. you held the pillow, rough with age and not even fluffy but a soft surface nonetheless, snuggling up to him.
"anything for you. 'excuse me, she asked for no pickles!'"
— he's sooooo corny sometimes ew !! blowing you kisses and holding your hand and playing with your hair etc, he loves seeing your reactions so much.
"y'did great today, sweetie. the forges are well-loved." he kissed the tip of your nose as he held your tired hands in his. you two were curled up on your bunk while your other siblings either napped or were busy with their own things.
you scrunched up your nose, feeling a sneeze coming on, and he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest that pressed aainst your shoulder. he continued to massage your hands, but you pulled away to sneeze. "bless you, y/n." he handed you a tissue.
you sighed as he continued to knead the tired joints in your hands, reliving the tension. without realizing it, you started to get used to the feeling of his own calloused fingers on your skin. you stared, mesmerized as he continued to do you a favor.
"psst." you looked up to lock eyes with him. his face split into a big grin, the one that always made your stomach flutter, and you quickly looked away, biting back a giddy smile. "what?" he asked, almost sounding hurt. "i'm not doing anything?"
"you're making me...you're so flirty!" you whispered, looking around to make sure no one was watching how lovey-dovey he was being. no one was, but you feared if he started tickling you, it would cause an explosion of one of your little machines under your bunk or something.
"and? i'm always flirty," he said proudly. you prodded him to move over to the corner so he would be able to hide out of sight. despite that, he still managed to pull you close, caging you between his arms and resting his head on your shoulder as he continued to massage your hands. one of your siblings passed by and made a gagging motion.
you sat there for a while, savoring the feeling of him against you while you murmured some ideas for your next project. he would nod and reply, half-absentmindedly but you swore you could feel his gaze slowly bore into you and spread like a warm blanket. or maybe that was your blush creeping up your neck.
you only had about three more minutes of this before one of connor's half siblings came storming into your cabin. "you," he snapped his fingers at connor. "mr d. knows what you did." he seemed dead serious and connor's smile dropped. "and you," he pointed at you. "is he glued to you or something? damn."
"i...do a lot of things, what did he find out?"
"he knows, connor."
"oh shit, okay," he stood up, but not before making a big show of giving you a tight hug and a very, very enthusiastic kiss on the mouth. you barely had time to react and when he pulled away you were wide-eyed and hot. "see you around, babe!" shoving his sibling out the door, he blew kisses and waved goodbye.
babe? you felt like sinking into your mattress at the mere thought of it. at the same time, though, you were thrilled, loving his not-so-little gestures. your half siblings grinned from their places. "babe?" "that is so corny!" "have a good day, babe." "did you eat lunch yet, babe?"
you pulled your makeshift curtains closed and hid in your bunk.
— he's all over you. finds it so cute when you're working and you make that focusing face. he loves watching you put things together or disassemble them—doesn't matter, it's you he's looking at anyway.
he found it so cute. your pursed lips, how still your irises stayed still in precision as you worked. it was like you even conditioned your breathing to be a certain way as to not disturb your hands too much. you didn't mind the grime that built on your fingers, and he found you so beautiful whenever the fire cast an orange glow on your face. and he made sure to tell you everything on his mind.
after his 4th comment on how your craftsmanship blew his mind or how impressed he was with how you could even visualize these kinds of things, you could barely focus, feeling like hiding in the nearest crate, away from his teasing eyes. of course, you liked it, loved it, even, but his little remarks were too much!! he's too coy!!
as soon as you went to the table he was sitting by, looking for a certain tool and holding your reference sheet, you caught him smiling at you. when you turned to him he reached over and pushed a stray lock of hair out of your eyes and chuckled.
you slowly turned your head to the side, looking away and muttering a slow but thorough curse, making connor laugh, a voice among the clanging and crackles of the forge.
"you gotta loosen up, you know, baby? it's just me." he didn't take his eyes off you when he rubbed your hands and smiled up at you almost tauntingly.
"no, it's not, but go ahead and make out if you wish," nyssa peeked over from her table and called out to you two.
no words left you, but to match your burning face one of the hearths behind you roared with flames.
— everyone is so fed up and connor just finds it amusing because he's a menace like that. you secretly find it amusing, too, because you find some reactions funny like the kids who find it gross. but connor likes to go and make it worse, just so the kids have something to laugh at. the older campers though? not so much. they'll groan and roll their eyes as connor smothers you with kisses, telling you two to get a room. and you do exactly that.
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macsimagines · 8 months
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Can you write a headcanon about the breaking point of yandere souya, Nahoya and shinichiro would have to where they'd claim(or kidnap you)?
-🐇
I think this is my first breaking point ask
Yandere!Souya
Its going to be after the third time someone has asked you out. You work at the brother ramen shop as a waitress and Angry has to watch you get hit on all day.
He's sabotaged so many of your dates now, making sure each time the other party never showed up... It was their own fault they kept trying to steal you away before he got the chance to confess.
Finally he finds his courage and pops the question. You say no. You tell him too many things are going on in your life and you just don't have the time!
The truth is you don't know who or what has been preventing you from going out on dates but you can't risk Souya getting hurt.
Too bad for you he's actually the cause of all your problems and when you try to walk away he's grabbing you and dragging you into the storage room of the restaurant.
His brother is all too happy to help. After all he's got his own darling that Smiley has kidnapped so of course he'd teach Angry the ropes.
Yandere!Nahoya
Was an absolute menace in high school. The guy basically tormented you everyday just to watch you cry. He'd turn everyone against you and then laugh at the way you would silently ask someone to come save you from him.
Is incredibly deluded into thinking that this is just puppy love. That some day you'll realize that all mean name calling and all the pinching is just him having a hard time confessing. Right? You know him the best you have to understand.
Nope. In fact you're convinced he hates you enough to want you dead, so you're transferring schools... Expect when Nahoya finds out it sends him in a frenzy
"Don't leave me, I love you!" and that crazed confession just pushes you farther away. You tell him you hate him for everything he's done and don't want anything to do with him further.
Nahoya doesn't react well and ends up kidnapping you the next day... He's got you locked in an abandon building, chained and tied up.
"I'll let you out. Maybe. When you're ready to accept that you love me as much as I love you."
Yandere!Shinichiro
You're the only girl that has put up with him and his antics. You've been around for years loyally following him and supporting him right under his nose.
Eventually, years later Waka tells him he's soo stupid and dense that he didn't realize the one was right in front of him this whole time and Shinichiro knows in his hearts hes right.
You've loved him this whole time and he didn't even know it until it was too late... He tries to confess, tries to apologize for not knowing sooner and begs you to give him a chance. That none of the other girls ever mattered because you were right there this whole time.
Unfortunately its too late. You're seeing someone and have been for months, he was just too dense to notice it. Now that you're taken you're finally good enough? No. You're not going to put up with Shinichiro anymore!
Too bad for you. It's all his fault he'll admit it, but he won't let you go now that he knows his true love was right there this whole time.
Kidnaps you before a date with your boyfriend, the struggle was difficult, not because of how tough you are, but just because he doesn't want to hurt you...
"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I was stupid. I love you."
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eustasssimp · 2 years
Text
Letting OP Characters put their head in your tiddies pt 2
these r fun
inspiration | part 1 | part 2
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Roger, Rayleigh x GN reader
SFW Prompt: Letting their head rest in your chest wc: 0.8k
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Gol D. Roger
if you invite him to rest your head on his chest, this man is so giddy and excited. He'll forget just how massive he is for a moment, almost knocking your breath out at how he instantly lets his whole weight falls onto you.
Roger would nuzzle his head against your chest, a big smile on his face as he lets his head rest right over your heartbeat. His hair tickles your face, but if you try to move away at all, expect his arms to wrap even tighter around you with a nonono not yet to be mumbled into your skin.
It's not just his head in your chest- his legs are tangling in yours and his arms are digging into your skin, wanting to get as close to you as he can.
He lives for these moments, humming contently and would quickly form a habit of sleeping like this at least for half the week.
But, if you didn't invite him to rest his head against you, he'd be a bit bashful in first at asking you. He knows he's big, he's your hulky and muscular captain so there's a part of him that makes him nervous to ask him.
It makes him try to be subtle about it, claiming he has to listen to your heartbeat for the doctor, or turn the whole thing into a big speech ("since the dawn of pirate time....") just to end with "therefore, it's only natural for me to.. want to... lay on you.."
After he's asked, in whatever way he did, he'd look at you with the cutest of puppy dog eyes (you swear there's actual sparkles in them) with the slightest (biggest) of pouts in hopes of currying your favor. like anyone could say no to him
When you agree to him asking, the giddiness shines clear on his face, his arms don't hesitate to scoop you up, pulling you to his bed in a heartbeat. He can’t help but laugh when you complain about his mustache tickling you, and would purposefully rub it against you more.
He isn't shy about it, will let you sit sideways in his lap in front of the crew so he can lean against you, a content smile on his face with his hand comfortably resting on your hip.
Roger definitely brags, saying that he had the best nights of sleep because of his new pillow. Rayleigh would roll his eyes at his Captains antics (roger has definitely slept on rayleighs chest before) but would give some half snarky congratulating comment to the captain.
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Silvers Rayleigh
Rayleigh would ask if he could lay his head on your chest after you’ve been reunited from one of his leaves of absences. There’s a content smile on his face the whole time, his breath soft against your neck as he lets his head rest against you.
His arms would find their way around you, running along your back, squeezing your hips, tracing along your spine. Rayleigh likes to feel you again this palms, and that doesn’t change when he’s resting his head against you.
Other than that instance, he wouldn’t ask to lay against you. But, if you offered, he’d never say no to the chance to lay against you. The moment he saw your outstretched arms or heard you and, a mischievous smile graces his lips as his hand finds the small of your back, guiding you straight to his bed.
As young spirited he is, Rayleigh can’t help deny how much he loves feeling your hands trace along his skin, massaging years of pirating and gambling out of his tired bones.
The moment with him is always tender, coupled with ever wandering chatter that leads to discussions about everything under the sun. Or, if he begins to feel tired from your hand’s ministrations, he’d listen to anything you had to say with a smile on his face.
Though he won’t openly admit it, Rayleigh loves feeling your hands card through his locks, and would relish in the feeling of your hands lightly scratching his scalp.
He’d ask just once if he was too heavy, trusting whatever answer you give him while still paying attention to any sign that he might be too heavy on top of you.
After he gets comfortable, Rayleigh wouldn’t hesitate to ask you to run his back, scratch his shoulders, comb through his hair, anything that might bring him even more bliss in the experience. He isn’t selfish, though, and makes sure to give you the same attention that he’s receiving- peppering you in kisses and letting his hands squeeze at and massage at your skin.
Though he doesn’t shy away from doing it in front of his crew, he isn’t afraid to lay his head on you whenever the inkling comes, Rayleigh still prefers to share the moment with you alone. But, either way, he makes sure that you’re the only one who hears the sweet nothings he mutters into your skin while he basks in your love, enjoying the sound of your heartbeat in his ear.
736 notes · View notes
imagineanime2022 · 7 months
Text
Married Life With The Brothers
Lucifer X Reader, Mammon X Reader, Leviathan X Reader, Satan X Reader, Asmodeus X Reader, Beelzebub X Reader, Belphegor X Reader
Requested: Anon
Request: Can you do ‘married life’ headcannons with the obey me brothers?
Lucifer
📚 You are his biggest pride and joy, he literally uses your marital status as a way to tease anyone around him especially if he was amongst the first to get married. 📚 He’s always busy so he values the time that you spend together, even if you were just sitting in his office while he was working, you didn’t have to be helping him, you could be doing something else entirely but it was enough that you were there. 📚 You were the only other person that he trusted to look after his brothers when he was otherwise occupied. 📚 He’d talk to you about a lot of things and any stresses he had he’d talk to you about them and even run through solutions. 📚 Calls you sweetheart or darling usually, if he’s using your given name you’ve probably done something wrong and you should be thinking of a way to apologise. 📚 Literally throws the brothers out of the house on your anniversary so that you guys can celebrate uninterrupted (Solomon and Simeon dread that time of the years because they end up babysitting the man children) 📚 Arguments weren’t common but they did happen, given the fact that he could be quite prideful and possessive you clashed about things often. 📚 When you get sick he’ll make sure that you stay in your shared room so that he can make sure that you are actually resting and taking your medicine. He hates it when you're sick so he’ll do whatever he can to make sure that you get better in no time. 📚 If you think he’s bad when you get sick, you better hope that you never get hurt, no matter who happened to be involved the punishment will be the same (the only person that seemed to get away with it was Diavolo) 📚 You would be the person that people go to if they wanted to soften the blow of some bad news, they claimed that he was better at accepting it from him. 📚 He opens the door for you and carries things for you when you are together. 📚 While he does think that his brothers are all the childish antics that he needs he’s not against having kids. 📚 Probably the easiest to share a bed with… Well when he’s actually in it, adapts to you but will always have an arm wrapped around you. 📚 You guys are most like an old married couple, Lucifer is so careful with you, when people saw you together it was like you had been together your whole life and there was nothing that anyone could do to tear you apart.
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Mammon
💳 Everyone thinks you an actual legend for tying down the most tsundere brother, literally no one knows how you did it. That's only because they didn’t see how caring he was when there was no one else around. 💳 You're the only person that Mammon would actually tell his real feelings to, when things with his brother got too much he’d find you bury his face in your neck and mumbled about how mean his brothers were. 💳 He’ll really appreciate it if you're probably his biggest defender, you always congratulate him on his achievements and thank him for all the small things he does. 💳 Always holding your hand, that way he can make sure that you're not in danger. 💳 The first person to speak up if someone says something about you that he doesn’t agree with, it will make himself the loudest person in the room just so that everyone is listening to what he is saying. 💳 Will come to you with a different get rich quick scheme every week, that’s probably the biggest cause of arguments between the two of you. 💳 People know when you're arguing because Mammon looks like a kicked puppy and often causes more trouble than usual. 💳 Everytime he did anything romantic he’d be blushing the whole time. 💳 You’ve spoken about kids on many occasions and he’d definitely be open to having them if you wanted them. 💳 Shopping sprees all the time, he’ll buy you anything that you want and if you're not someone who typically talks about things that you want, he watches to see if there’s anything that you move towards or spend a little longer looking at. 💳 Your anniversary plans solely depend on who planned it, because you will always do something else that the other will enjoy so sometimes you end up with Mammon at a casino somewhere or he’d take you on a nice night out. 💳 He’s clingy when he sleeps, he’ll wrap himself around you or lay across you depending on how you sleep. 💳 People will often tell you everything that they need to tell Mammon so he can’t claim that they never told him or that he didn’t know and any family plans are more likely to be honoured when you drag him to them. 💳 Don’t expect him to know what to do if you get sick, he’ll try his best but if he gets sick expect a whiny child who needs constant attention. 💳 You guys always seem like you are just married, you learn something new about each other or yourselves everyday, even his brothers had to admit that you just seemed unbelievably happy together.
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Leviathan
🎮 Cutest otaku love story of the century but let's be honest you would have to put in all the work because he honestly doesn’t believe that he’s worth it. 🎮 You’ll probably have to instigate a lot of the loving gestures at first but he’ll reciprocate, forehead kisses and cuddles while gaming are very common. 🎮 He hides behind you when he’s fighting with his brothers but any other danger and he makes sure that you're behind him (even if he’s not sure that he can protect you… He can.) 🎮 Ruri-chan is part of the marriage, no room for debate, she's like the child you didn’t birth. 🎮 Still calls you Henry all the time, to be honest your marriage continues much like your friendship and dating lives had. 🎮 Anniversaries consist of him actually leaving the room for you, what you do will always vary but if you want to go somewhere that’s the only day that he won’t argue with you. 🎮 If you argue it’s probably about his spending habits and it’s more like scolding a child as he grumbles about being about to do whatever he wants with his money. Then he pulls out something that he bought for you. 🎮 If the argument goes on for too long he just assumes that you're filing for a divorce and that's a whole other problem to sort out. 🎮 He’ll have his head on your chest most nights, with his tail wrapped around your leg, he’ll love it if you wrap an arm around his shoulder and keep him close. 🎮 He’ll keep you in his room away from his brothers if you're sick, he’ll bring everything to you and even ask Lucifer for help if he really needed to. 🎮 No one ever knows where Levi is and he very rarely answers his messages unless they are from you so people will send you with information that they need to give him because they know that he’ll listen to you. 🎮 You guys never really talked about kids and if you ended up having any it would definitely be an accident, Levi would be worried all the time but he’s one of the most loving fathers out there. 🎮 You guys are the kind of married that people often mistake for best friends, you fit well together and are rarely apart.
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Satan
🐈 Satan is a romantic deep down and when you started dating his end goal was marriage, I can’t say that anyone who really knew him was surprised. 🐈 It takes far more for Satan to get angry at you, and tries his hardest not to allow his demon form to come out but there are still moments that it happens. 🐈 Does not engage in petty argument, if he doesn’t think that it’s worth it he’ll let you rant your way through your anger before talking through it once you calmed down. 🐈 When you truly argue, everyone literally leaves the house, they don’t want to be around and they don’t come back until it’s sorted, the only person that will brave it is Lucifer (that’s usually if it’s gone on too long or results in a rampage from Satan). 🐈 When you get sick Satan knows what’s wrong and how to fix it, he’ll spend most of his time reading to you and making sure that you're getting better and not worse. 🐈 Satan doesn’t move much in his sleep but he knows if you move away from him and he’ll reach his tail out to make sure that you're okay, your bodies don’t have to touch but his tail will always be in contact with you. 🐈 Satan is the type of person to tell you that he doesn’t want kids but if you fall pregnant, he will not let you get rid of the baby and he’ll honestly be an amazing Dad. Smart, strong and protective or his little one. 🐈 Always has plans for you anniversary because he listens to you, he always remembers where you want to go, what you want from a shop so he can go back when you're not with him. 🐈 Loves to teach you things and to learn things from you, so where you are from different realms with different customs there is no shortage of knowledge to be shared. 🐈 Note down all the things that you don’t like no matter what it is, food, colours, style of clothes, he makes sure that you never have to come into contact with them if you don’t want to. 🐈 Protective, no matter what you can do for yourself, he doesn’t like having other demons around you, so he never leaves you alone with them, he just doesn’t trust them. 🐈 Random text messages about what book you're going to read together next. 🐈 Cats come with no arguments. 🐈 Everyone knows that you are going to be together forever, you are the person that Satan turned soft for, the only person he turned soft for.
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Asmodeus
💅 No one expected him to get married but here he was married and to a human no less. 💅 Asmo doesn’t see you as anything apart from his amazing spouse and he will tell anyone the same thing. 💅 Asmo is probably one of the easiest brother’s to be married to, all of the others cause their own trouble but asmo is very rarely the centre of anything that happens to the brothers, he’s just swept up in everything afterwards. 💅 Continues to be a tease long after you are married so be ready for that. 💅 Your arguments are usually because someone was flirting with him and he entertained them instead of telling them he was married. 💅 Though this happens a lot less the longer that you are married to by about 6 months in arguments are a rare occurrence. 💅 Anniversaries are big nights out or shopping sprees followed by spa nights. 💅 Asmo doesn’t really mind how you sleep but he prefers being the little spoon or wrapped around you in some capacity. 💅 Loves to do your nails and if you’ll allow him to he makes it a mini date every week giving your hand and nails the treatment that they deserve. 💅 When you get sick he knows what to do and he’s ready to look after you, everyone thinks that he’d shy away from it but he loves you and will do anything for you (he will still whine about some things once you're better but he’ll be there the whole time). 💅 He’d love to have kids with you, he’d be worried about whatever gender they are since he doesn’t know that he’ll be about to parent them properly but with how caring and gentle he is he has nothing to worry about, he’s probably going to spoil them a little bit though (a lot). 💅 Always texting you for outfit advice and will provide the same for you, though he prefers an in person fashion show for the most accurate opinion. 💅 Has no problem with PDA, will show you that he loves you no matter where you are or who’s watching. 💅 You share clothes… He steals your clothes so you steal his and it continues like that for the rest of you married life. 💅 You guys are the hot couple that everyone wishes that they were, there have been a few demons that have tried to ruin your marriage but you both love each other too much for that to ever work.
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Beelzebub
🍔 No one expected Beel to get married if only because he never seemed to understand the finer details of most things, however he knew that he loved you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you (and Belphie). 🍔 You guys literally never argue, but it can be hard to understand him sometimes. If you've ever been around a mildly autistic child he’s a little like that, he knows what he’s feeling and what he’s talking about but you have to decode it for yourself sometimes. 🍔 He’ll share any and all food that he has, especially if he hasn’t seen you eat that day, he gets worried so he feeds you. 🍔 He’ll carry you everywhere and he’ll carry anything for you no questions asked. 🍔 Dedicated to you and only you, there is no one else that could turn his head, not even for a second, he’s looking at you and talking about how much he loves you. 🍔 Will kiss you wherever he wants, whenever he wants, Lucifer is often telling him it’s not appropriate and to wait until he's back in his room. 🍔 Anniversary means going to a new restaurant and trying everything on the menu, while laughing and talking about anything and everything that comes to mind or cooking it the kitchen at home. 🍔 He sleeps on his back and he’ll just have you laying over him, he literally doesn’t care but he will notice when your not there, he’ll wait a moment before coming to find you but when he does come to find you it usually results in a midnight snack. 🍔 He’s your biggest supporter no matter what you are doing. 🍔 Will jump in front of you at the first sign of danger no matter what it is, he gets genuinely upset if you get hurt. 🍔 When you get sick he doesn’t know what to do the first time, so he ask Belphie and Lucifer so that he could properly look after you, after the first time though he was ready and he stayed with you no matter what. 🍔 Would love to have kids, he’d be amazing at keeping them entertained, however disciplining them would be all you, they’d literally shed one tear and he’d be giving them whatever he told them that they couldn’t have. 🍔 You two are and will forever be a couple of teenagers running around laughing together and enjoying time that you have together, no matter how long your together or where your life takes you.
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Belphegor
💤 Everyone is mildly confused because he is barely awake to know someone well enough to marry them but he chose and proposed to you and you said yes. 💤 You spend most of your time as his pillow, you’d be reading or doing your own thing while he sleeps and when he wakes up, you're both getting into some kind of trouble. 💤 Literally drags you into all of the plans that he makes to annoy Lucifer, you married him, you said until death do us part and he absolutely took that to heart. 💤 You guys don’t argue much because he does not entertain an argument at all, he’s easily angered so an argument consists of you saying something he doesn’t like, he disappears only for you to wake up cradled in his arms. 💤 Kisses you in public because sometimes he needs to remind people that you are taken but it has the added bonus of angering Lucifer as well. 💤 He looks after you while you're sick, he knows what he’s doing and he makes sure to keep the others away from you while you get better. 💤 Anniversaries are you stargazing or just spending time together without all of the others ruining it. 💤 You are the only person that can wake him up with no consequences, he’ll usually just steal kisses from you and try to distract you from the reason you came to wake him in the first place. 💤 Belphie never really cared about having kids, he’d be happy if you had them but he’d also be happy if it was just the two of you for the rest of your lives. 💤 He doesn’t move that much in his sleep and he won’t be woken up if you do. It doesn't bother him whether you want to lay over him or not, most nights though he’ll be the one falling asleep on you. 💤 Has a different ringtone for you, one that actually wakes him up so if you need him you can always reach him. 💤 Talks to you about everything, he spends a lot of time talking through feelings that he has, since he tends not to want to bother Beel and expects the others to laugh at him. He’d be okay if you talked through everything that you felt with him as well. 💤 You guys are the mostly quiet couple, you’d be happy on your own, you don’t need to world to know that you love each other, just each other, that is enough.
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Request Here!!
47 notes · View notes
matts-slut · 6 months
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Do u think u could write coop x remer x reader fluff 😞😞 I need this so badly I will love u forever
Usually I don't take character x character x reader stuff but since it was fluff and I'm currently only in a fluff mood I'm totally cool with writing this:)) (btw this is my first time writing something like this so enjoy <333)
Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader
You loved Coop and Remer, you really did but sometimes you couldn't help but laugh a little at their stupidity. They were idiots, but they were your favorite idiots… even with their regular antics of pushing and shoving each other, constantly arguing over dumb shit, and coming up with "genius business ideas" every other day.
But when they weren't being total idiots and getting themselves into trouble, they really were your favorite people in the whole world. You loved them a lot, although you guys wouldn't really say it outloud a lot, you knew you all meant it.
So that's why when you had a rough day at work where it seemed like everything that could go wrong was going wrong, the only thing you looked forward to was going home to your friend and hoping they'd cheer you up.
On your walk home you felt a slight breeze and wished you had brought a jacket, it was fall after all. You always liked this time of year though, the comfy clothes, the leaves changing colors, and your absolute favorite Halloween. Unfortunately you probably couldn't do much for Halloween this year since you had been working so much, it would just have to wait until next year, you mumbled to yourself disappointedly.
As you walked into your house hoping that you could at least try to have a good night by doing the bare minimum and watch a movie and maybe making some snacks. While your expectations were low, you were delighted to walk into a mostly decorated house with little cut out ghosts and spooky figures around the house. Your eyes lit up a little, not because of the decorations but because you knew Coop and Remer had done this because they knew it would cheer you up.
"Guys?...guysss?" You called out wondering what they could possibly be up to now.
Finally they both popped their heads out, dressed in big, oversized, and comfy looking sweaters. Remer had a cute, thick dark green sweater on and Coop had a dark, almost hot pink sweater on. To say they looked adorable would be understating it, Coop had a small smile on his lips while Remer had a wide goofy grin as they walked over to you.
You continued to glance at the house in awe and joy. Just this was enough to make your entire day better, and now seeing them in their comfy attire you had a hint that there would be more to come.
"So, whaddya think?" Remer asked, gesturing around to the obvious.
"It's really, really nice you guys…I can't thank you enough this is so sweet" you said feeling some tears threaten to fall from your eyes, this was a small gesture but it was the sweetest thing anyways done for you in a while.
They brought you into a tight group hug of sorts, it was like being crushed by two puppies, if you could imagine that. You felt warm and content in their embrace, both of them sighing with gentle smiles as they squished you.
Eventually you all backed away, you laughed a little as you wiped a few tears off your cheeks.
"Hey, hey don't cry now, we still have more to do. Come on get ready we're heading out soon" Coop told you, grabbing his keys and urging you to go get ready.
You did your best to quickly get changed into something similar, a simple black sweater and some other halloween/fall type clothing. You excitedly walked out into the living room, following them out the door, and waiting for them to tell you where you were headed off to.
"Noooo it's a surprise, it's better if you find out when we get there" Coop said, seeming more excited that you were excited.
"Yeah I mean we could just blindfold you" Remer spoke with that suggestive tone in his voice that usually got him smacked in the back of the head, which he did moments later when Coop smacked him in the back of the head.
"Oww, dude…" Remer pouted, complaining that Coop had hit him too hard.
"Stop being an idiot" Coop said nonchalantly, returning back to paying attention to where they were going.
You were curious about where you were headed but you decided it would be best to be totally surprised, besides they clearly had a plan for the day and you didn't wanna mess with that. The car slowed and they seemed to be ready to get out of the car, so you followed them out, closing the door behind you and gasping quietly when you saw where they'd taken you.
The words "FALL FAIR" were clearly plastered on a huge sign with pumpkins and crows painted on it. You had mentioned many times in the past that you had gone to this huge fall fair when you were a child that was only open during fall, but it was one of your favorite places. You were shocked that they'd remember such a small detail about you, but you were glad that they did.
"You guys this is amazing, thank you" you smiled, in awe of the place as you walked in further, seeing pumpkins, face paintings, hay stacks, and… gasp
"OH MY GOSH" you shouted excitedly.
They both knowingly smiled at each other as they saw what you were pointing at, you couldn't miss it. You ran over to the "haunted house" area, dragging them with you, already hearing other people's screams and music, and also seeing some purple lights from the outside.
"I don't know, are you sure?" Remer asked, trying to pretend that he wasn't scared out of his mind.
"Only if you're too scared to go in….so is that it? Are you too scared?" You teased
"What? What no! Of course not, I'd never be scared of something like this…it's made for kids" he said watching two seven year olds walk in with no hesitation, silently cursing himself that two first graders were less scared than him.
"Then let's go" Coop said, laughing and shoving Remer in.
"Asshole.." Remer mumbled under his breath after Coop pushed him.
As you walked in you were immediately greeted by spooky music, dark lights followed by occasionally bright flashes of light, some fake spiderwebs, and scary decorations like fake blood but not any jumpscares….yet.
"Maybe it's not that bad…you know all these decorations barely scare m- AHHHH" Remer said, letting out the most girlish scream, grabbing onto Coop for dear life, truly terrified by this…rather obviously fake actor in a vampire costume. He was right about the decorations not being that scary, which is why you figured he wouldn't be shaking at the first thing that jumps out at him.
"Please don't kill me" Remer sobbed, as you and Coop lost it and couldn't stop laughing, Even the actor seemed a little confused by Remer's true terror.
"So much for it being for little kids right?" Coop said, teasing Remer unrelentlessly.
"It WAS scary" Remer huffed as you guys kept walking.
You giggled walking towards a box that looked like something was moving inside it. You reluctantly got close to it but figured it would be a fake mouse or something and started to open it.
"JESUS CHRIST" you yelped as a fake hand tried to grab you, making you jump back. As you turned around you watched Coop smack one of the actors, it was just an instinct, but it was still hilarious to watch, especially as he started profusely apologizing to him after he did it.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, you should put some ice on that, here let me see if I can-"
Then you looked next to Coop and saw Remer looking to his left and right, and checking behind him like he was being watched by the government. This was more amusing than you had imagined it would be.
Eventually you all got towards the end, giggling and practically falling over.
"That was barely scary, they should totally hire more believable actors" Remer rolled his eyes.
"You were in tears, Remer." Coop said with an attitude.
"Yeah whatever" he mumbled.
The next thing you tried was apple picking, but you came to the disheartening realization that you were just a little too short to reach the apple you were trying to get. You jumped a few times but still, you had no luck grabbing it.
"Awwhhaha, do you need help?" Coop asked laughing at your struggle to get the apple.
"That would be nice" you said through gritted teeth, slightly embarrassed you were too short to grab it yourself.
You felt both of his hands grab gently at your sides, making sure he had a firm grip on you, then lifted you slightly so you could reach it. After you had gotten he kept holding you up for a minute until you started kicking his legs and saying "put me down, PUT ME DOWN" while laughing. You giggled as he finally put you down, still a little embarrassed, but you found him dangling you in the air a little funny.
After a while of walking around and participating in stuff you wanted to do one final thing before you left. They had a face painting area where you could choose to get someone professional to paint something or you could choose to paint someone else. You chose to get a few ghosts and spiders painted on your cheeks while Coop and Remer, to no surprise, chose to paint dicks on each other's faces.
"You have really nice skin, you know" Remer said as he painted stuff onto Coop's face.
"Huh?" Coop said confused on whether that was a compliment or an insult
"No I mean like…like you have really soft skin I dunno man don't make me overthink it" Remer said, even he was a little confused with what he was trying to say.
"Oh…well thanks..you have a pretty nice nose I guess" Coop complimented back, clearing his throat after he said it, probably to try to save the last bit of masculinity he had left.
You laughed a little hearing their conversation from a distance "they're so clueless" you chuckled to yourself.
As it started to get too dark around 9 pm you all decided it was a good time to start heading home, of course you bought a few Halloween snacks before leaving.
"What kind of sicko wouldn't buy some snacks before leaving?" Coop said as he fought a hard battle with a candy apple.
On the car ride home you couldn't help but start to drift asleep on Remer's shoulder, sighing as you thought about how great this day had been, and wrapping your arms around him. You were gently woken up to him tapping you when you'd all finally gotten home.
"Hey we're here" he whispered quietly in your ear.
You all got out of the car and headed inside, exhausted but overjoyed at the day you had. You wanted nothing but to break open some snacks and watch a scary movie with them before falling asleep on the couch.
You somehow got into even comfier clothes for the rest of the night, finding the loosest and most comfortable pajamas you could find and went to sit down on the couch after a great, but very long day.
"So what movie are we picking?" You asked as they got comfy with blankets and pillows, grabbing the remote and opening up some of the festive treats you had gotten.
"Well what kind of movie should we watch?" Coop asked
"Obviously a scary movie, what kind of pre Halloween celebration would it be if we didn't watch a scary movie" Remer rambled on about how it's a Halloween tradition.
"It's only October 13th Remer" Coop pointed out.
"So??? All of October is Halloween in this house" he rolled his eyes.
"Alright, alright so we'll go with a scary movie, Remers right all of October is basically about Halloween" you said, shifting and snuggling closer in-between the both of them.
"So…scream it is?" Coop said, knowing it was the only scary movie Remer wouldn't start covering his eyes while watching.
You all agreed on it, so you put it on, cuddling up as you watched the intro to the movie. As the movie started, you felt both of them move closer to you, one of them wrapping their arms around you while the other rested his head on your shoulder.
Nothing could have been better than this, this was all you ever needed.
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Note
Rusty Nail x Reader. She is the younger sister to Lewis and Fuller Thomas. And she is candy cane? Maybe Fuller makes her be the one to mess with Rusty since she is a female? After she hesitantly starts talking to him on the radio, instead of rusty wanting it to be a fling he kinda hoped he could actually get to know her. So he kinda gets sad when he gets set up but also mad at the brothers cause he doesn’t want to blame her for tricking him. Joel this makes well enough since.
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Ask and you shall receive
Gruesome love
RUSTY/FEM!READER
Warnings: mentions of blood, death, Guns, slight gore, unwanted smelling, kidnapping,reader is scared y’all..fluff? I made this kinda dark..
Sighing softly, I leaned your head on the window of the car. The boys have been making me want to pull out my hair. They wouldn’t stop bickering. I don’t think I could take another second of them arguing. Thank god fullers distracted with the ham radio
Fuller has been fucking with it the entire ride. Asking stupid questions and acting like a fool. Suddenly he turns around to face me. Raising a brow, I know that look…ugh. “Sooo lil sis you wanna help your big bro prank some horny truckers?” Shaking your head. “No, I’d rather hang myself” I say before shooting him the finger. “Please..I’ll buy you your favourite snack for a whole year!” ”you can’t even keep yourself out of jail..” you deadpan. He slaps his hand on his chest, “oh you wound me” rolling your eyes at his childish antics. Glancing out the window I look at the dry land surrounding us.Turning your head to look back at him you see he’s giving you his best” puppy dog eyes”.
Slapping his head I know he won’t shut up til I do. “Alright alright..don’t blow a blood vessel” he cheers and shakes Lewis, he just slaps fuller off him. Handing me the radio I frown, maybe I shouldn’t do it. Sighing I speak into the radio.
“Hello..this is candy cane…?” Imumbled fuller looks at me waiting for me to speak some more, but you can’t think of anything. Suddenly you hear someone speak over the radio. “Candy cane..” gulping you. “Well, hi there who’s this” there’s a long pause. “You can call me rusty sweetheart” you look at the boys and fuller seems to be losing his mind. “We’ll rusty, I hope you're doing better than I am..this drive seems like it’s taking forever” “roger that candy cane” fuller smirks.
“Nice we got him” I frown…this feels mean. Bringing the radio back up to my mouth. “Well I do love travelling though..cause it lets me see the world” I hear a chuckle then he speaks “then you’d love to hear about all the places I’ve been” I smile slightly and fuller nudges me “i would love to hear all about it” he starts speaking but he gets cut of and then there’s static. Fuller slaps the radio and fiddles with the nobs while whining. Sighing lean back in my seat…he really was a sweetheart..and you would love to hear all about his stories.
——————���————————————————
The car is parked outside a motel I watch as fuller walks in to get us a room. Watching him get shoved to the side I furrow my brows. Suddenly hearing the radio pick up again I hear. “Candy cane?” Lewis tells me to ignore it. Frowning fuller gets back into the car holding the room keys he passes me mine. He hears the radio and looks at me.
“Tell him your turning in for the night and your staying lone star motel room 17 if he wants to meet up”
I glare at him and shake my head. He pushes the radio into my hands and I hiss at him. I frown,before speaking. “Hey there, rusty,how have you been?” “Hey candy cane, I’m good, how bout you sweetheart” I can’t get over the shitty feeling..this is mean, so mean and I hate I’m a part of it. “I’m turning in for the night, if you wanna meet up I’ll be at the lone star…room 17” “well that would be a treat” fuller snickers “tell him to bring pink champagne” I sigh before speaking “and bring pink champagne..it’s my favourite” god this feels terrible..
————————————————————————
That was what led us here….sprinting through a corn field. I couldn’t find Lewis or Fuller anywhere. I glance down seeing my whole body covered in dirt. My hair sticks to my face due to sweat.
Frightened, I tried to make sense of the situation. My body was shaking so much, from the cold and adrenaline. Whispering, I tried to call for Lewis, but heard nothing. I walked through the field seeing the parked truck sitting in the middle of the field. I looked around and suddenly tripped, confused I looked down seeing..fuller laying in a puddle of blood. I gasped covering my mouth, tears forming in my eyes. My hands shook as I crouched and tried to shake him. This was my fault…I cried and stood up on shaky legs.
“Lewis…please answer” I whispered..I didn’t see him anywhere I lost him when we all split up. After walking a little further I spotted Lewis. I ran over to him and he hugged him. Crying into his chest I told him about fuller. He cussed and kicked the ground, before turning to me “were getting out of here ok just follow me”. Nodding I follow closely behind him.
He walked over to the truck, hopefully the keys were still in the ignition. Lewis went to step closer, but all I heard was the sound of a gun going off. I felt blood splatter all over me. I stood there frozen..lewis? I turn to look and see his body lying on the floor..his chest covered in blood… i feel a hand on my face, making me turn my head. I turn and see rusty..grinning
“Well there you are gorgeous…I’ve dealt with those mean boys..ya had me running around”
Looking down at me with a smirk he slides a thumb down my cheek. Before leaning down and smelling my hair. He inhales and sighs before standing up straight. He kicks Lewis' body before picking me up. Throwing me over his shoulder. I struggle in his grip panicking. “Now don’t worry sweetheart…ain’t nothing gonna happen to ya” he says before bringing me to the other side of the truck, setting me down in the passenger seat. He grabs some rope and ties my hands together. Before buckling me into the seat. He turns so he’s face to face with me, his eyes glinting.
“I think I promised you some stories..didn’t I sweetheart?”
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after-the-end-times · 10 months
Text
The Lasso Way Title TBD
After he finishes that final chapter, Trent shares a copy of his book with the team. They sit on the floor in the locker room and read it out loud to each other like story time.
Sam finishes his turn, reading the last chapter, with solemnity. In the hushed silence of the locker room, he reverently closes the book.
"Hey, Trent?" Sam calls out.
"Yes?" Trent pops his head out of the office where he's been absolutely not listening to the team's laughs and sniffles for the last few hours.
"Why have you crossed out your title? The Lasso Way? Are you changing it because Ted left?"
"Ah. No. Ted's actually the one to suggest I change it. Said the story's not about him. That it's about all of you, the team and the community," Trent's fiddling with his glasses, not really looking at any of them, "I'm thinking The Richmond Way might be more appropriate?"
"No bruv. You gotta leave it," Isaac says as he gets up and walks over to the coach's office door. He reaches up to place his hand on the previously torn, but now glitter glued back together, BELIEVE sign.
"Ted, he tried to rip himself out of this place. Told us it wasn't about this piece of paper. But it was. That's why we all kept a piece. We wouldn't be here without him. We wouldn't be us without him. So keep the title. 'Cause without The Lasso Way we'd still be in the Championship league"
"And Roy would be a pundit on Soccer Saturday!" calls out Jamie, the team laughing around him.
"Yeah. And Jamie would still be a prick," Roy snaps back, "but not our prick." He finishes while sharing a soft smile with Jamie.
"I don't even know if I'd still be here in Richmond," Sam says softly. "I was so homesick back then. And I didn't have any friends on the team," He looks around the room, seeing how far they've all come. His eyes find Jamie's and they share a sad, but understanding smile, "But now I have the best friends I could ever have. And it all started with that birthday cake after we lost."
Everyone starts talking over each other, remembering what they were like three years before. Wondering where they'd be now. Wondering if they'd be as close as they are now.
Trent just stands there and watches them all, smiling to himself, tapping his closed glasses against him mouth. He startles a bit when he suddenly hears a voice next to him.
"I was so unhappy," Nate, who's been standing silently next to him the whole time, says softy. "I came to work everyday. Did my job. Tried to stay small and quiet enough that the guys wouldn't- Wouldn't- Well, anyway. I was just so unhappy. But I don't think I really even knew that until he got here and I learned how to be a little happier."
"And then I became really unhappy," He huffs out a small laugh and looks over at Trent, sharing a look as they remember when Nate came to him a year before, "But that wasn't him. It was never- Well, it was more me and my dad, you know? But without all that. I wouldn't have a girlfriend. I wouldn't be on better terms with my dad now."
Nate looks out over the team who have found themselves in some sort of puppy pile of love? Trent's not sure he heard that right, but will always smile at their antics anyways.
"I wouldn't have them," Nate continues, "They have somehow forgiven me for things that I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for. And that's all because of Ted Lasso," He looks sharply up at Trent, "So keep the title. If he really doesn't like it, well, I guess he can just come back and say so himself."
Nate leaves him at that, going to help Will pick up bins and towels that got knocked over while the guys were all playing and chasing each other around the room. Something about love tackling each other? Trent's still not sure he heard that right.
Trent turns back into the office and leaves them to it. Letting the overwhelming feeling of love that permeates the Richmond clubhouse flow over and around him, he heads back to his desk. He's got a few edits to make.
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Text
loud | bradley bradshaw
TW: childhood trauma from witnessing abuse, panic attack
request: omg so glad i found you again! can't believe ur whole blog got deleted what :\ could you do a bradley bradshaw x wife reader where she grew up in an abusive house (maybe dad hitting mom) & she gets a panic attack bc hes yelling at her and maybe she thinks hes gonna hit her? tysm ily <;33
anon! I know :( It was so weird, but here I am again! & thanks for the request!
You don't remember how it started. You were a bit upset that Bradley hadn't been able to make it to the home-cooked dinner he had promised he'd be there for, the one that you'd been planning for weeks. You had decided on poking and prodding him a little like you usually did until he did something so undeniably adorable that you couldn't help but give in. Not that he wouldn't charmingly apologize anyway, but you loved to guilt-trip him just to coax out your husband's infamous puppy eyes.
It was supposed to be a routine evening of playful accusations and endearing apologies, but the teasing smile dropped off your lips as soon as you heard the slam of the front door as Bradley made his way in. Slamming doors. Screaming voices. Ringing ears. You blinked rapidly, clearing your mind and approaching the door, though now you moved with an added layer of caution. No "honey, I'm home!" or "baby!" or even a "Y/n!" told you something was off. Sure enough, your husband was sitting on the plush bench right next to the door, pulling off his boots with such anger you could've sworn they did something to offend him personally. "Bradley, honey?" You almost whispered, unnerved by the almost palpable tension.
It's not like you've never seen Bradley angry. He'd returned from work stressed a few times, complained about Hangman's latest antics, or ticked off from a training exercise, but your calm presence reduced his anger to nothing very quickly. This time however, he just glanced up at you with a strained smile before turning back to his boots, muttering furiously under his breath as he yanked the second one off with such force it made you wince. Throwing shoes at mom across the room. Didn't want that for dinner. Right shoe. Water wasn't cold enough. Left shoe. You shook yourself off, scolding yourself. 'Really, Y/n? You're comparing Bradley, sweet, considerate Bradley, to him? Snap out of it.'
By the time you had removed yourself from your brief trance, you regained focus just to feel your husband brush past you, walking towards the kitchen. You followed him warily, though keeping a distance between the two of you, cringing as you heard the cabinet swing open roughly, the sound of clinking glass audible as Bradley pulled a glass out to get some water. Shattering plates. Broken glass. Little cuts on your small nine-year-old feet. You brushed past your reservations and tried again. "Bradley? Is everything ok, baby?" He looked up at you again, but this time you could discern not only anger, but also hurt, grief, and betrayal in his eyes. But you could sense these weren't directed at you. He acknowledged you with a quick "mhm" and a kiss on your cheek, though it felt absent, almost foreign because it didn't contain even a fraction of the warmth he usually did. "Did something happen in training?" Bradley's body tensed up. "I don't want to talk about it." No Y/n? Not some cute nickname? Unsure what to think, you pressed on uncertainly, though you fought internally whether you were pushing him too far. "Was it Maverick?" Something seemed to snap in your husband as he spun around suddenly, eyes filled with anger as he almost yelled at you. "I said drop it, Y/n!" The hand holding the glass cup was raised in outrage, and for one terrible, horrible moment, you thought he was going to throw it at you.
You cowered, slipping to the floor immediately with your hands shielding the top of your head as your childhood reinvaded your mind. It had taken you months to silently convince yourself you had chosen a man that would never go down the same path as the other influential male, if you could call him that, in your life, yet it had taken just one moment of mindless anger to make you doubt everything you had so carefully built up all over again. You wrung your hands as your air supply felt cut off, pushing them up to your face in an unsuccessful attempt to breathe normally again.
Bradley was horrified. Mav's sudden reappearance into his life had annoyed him enough, but losing, doing the push-ups, and, to top it all off, getting into a fight with Hangman over his dad had pushed him over the edge. Carole had reinforced over and over that respecting women makes a man, and he'd never yelled at you in the years he'd known you until then. Seeing you duck away from him made him realize you must've thought him a monster in the one brief second he'd lost control. He couldn't understand why more than the yelling itself, fear had bloomed in your beautiful eyes at the sight of the glass in his hand.
Bradley lowered himself to your level, feeling unimaginably guilty at being the cause for you currently gasping on your knees. He reached for your cheek, heart breaking as you flinched away from his touch. Bradley held your shoulders, this time, in a firmer grip, looking straight into your unfocused eyes. "Y/n, baby, it's me. Bradley. Your husband, who thinks you're the strongest, bravest, prettiest, most intelligent woman I've ever met, just like my mom." Your eyes seemed to lose some of their glazed appearance. You loved it when Bradley talked about Carole, treasuring everything he told you like the finest gold just because he was choosing to share it with you. He continued talking, looking you in the eye and taking deep breaths to get you to imitate him. "She would've been so disappointed in me, you know. Mom would've given me a good smackdown if she knew I'd raised my voice at you!" Bradley's mission seemed successful as he managed to coax a giggle out of you, your breathing slowly settling down.
Once you had calmed down, Bradley helped you up from the ground and to the couch, apologizing profusely the entire time. Once you'd explained to him about your father hitting and abusing your mother, yelling and throwing and breaking throughout your childhood, you watched as his face grew increasingly horrified and ashamed simultaneously. "When I saw you like that, hand outstretched and so, so angry, the memories were just too loud. I couldn't block them out because I was so afraid I'd fallen in the same trap my mom did, the one I was so sure I'd avoided." "I'm so sorry, honey." You sent a weak smile towards him. "You didn't know." Your husband immediately shook his head indignantly. "Not knowing is not an excuse. My behavior was inexcusable, and I'll do whatever's necessary to make it up to you. I'm sorry, baby." Bradley pressed his forehead to yours, the corners both of your lips twitching upwards. "You're not forgiven, Bradshaw." Here we go again, time for the guilt-trip.
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oswildin · 1 year
Text
A Dangerous Thing {Dhawan!Master x Reader} (Part Three)
Summary: You learn more about The Doctors past and seem to get along more with the Master, but is it all the calm before the storm?
A/N: Last little dynamic chapter before it gets juicy!
MASTERlist
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I'm a scary gargoyle on a tower
That you made with plastic power
Your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away
It was late. At least you thought it was. It was hard to tell when on a TARDIS floating through the time vortex. You sat on the familiar armchair in the console room, files surrounding you as you read through one of them. After seeing Gallifrey, and remembering what the Master had said about his people, and even about The Doctor and how you may not like some of the things you saw. You decided to dig deeper. You felt like you were breaching the Doctors trust, but she wasn’t there. She hadn’t told you a lot about her past. Maybe there was reason for that…
Flipping through the pages in the files, you found out how The Doctor had lost multiple companions, from Rose Tyler, officially dead in the battle of Canary Wharf, but lost to a parallel world, to Amy & Rory Williams, who officially disappeared, but lived a life in the years before they were even born. So many people had come and gone from The Doctors life, and whilst you didn’t personally blame her, and knew the risks that came with travelling with her, it still felt weird. You even found a folder on Gallifrey… Discovering that The Doctor had in fact thought she’d destroyed the planet and her people to end the Time War… She had intended to do what the Master did. Perhaps they weren’t so different after all…
“Late night reading?”
You looked up to see The Master staring down at all the sprawled out files on the floor, raising a brow at you. You cleared your throat, closing the current file as you shrugged.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him. “Seeing a dead planet will do that to you.” You jibed as he narrowed his eyes.
“Anything interesting?” He asked curiously. You shrugged, playing it off. “Oh come on.” He smirked. “I know you saw it.” He pushed. “You know what she tried to do.”
“She was doing what she thought was right.” You retorted. “Just like you.” He rolled his eyes as he threw himself down onto the sofa.
“Except she acts all righteous about it. Like she didn’t have a choice.” He paused. “But I own it. I don’t go around pretending I have regrets, or give those big puppy dog eyes for sympathy from humans.” He bit, as you narrowed your eyes at him, listening to his words. “I don’t pick up strays and fashion them into weapons.” He looked back at you. “And yet she still likes to think she’s above us all.”
“Is that the real reason you hate her?” You asked, raising a brow.
“I have many reasons.” He said through gritted teeth. You hummed in response, pulling your gaze away. Both of you sat in silence, before he finally spoke again. “You better clean all these up.” He waved his hand at your mess as you rolled your eyes.
“Yes, Master, of course, Master.” You joked, as he sent you a small smirk at your tone.
“I have taught you well.” He teased, causing you to scoff.
“You wish.” You quipped, as you got up, going to tidy the mess you had made. “It’s funny, for someone who sure likes it when people comply, you don’t half enjoy getting a kick out of riling people up.” You commented as he grinned.
“I enjoy keeping people on their toes.” He gestured outwards with his hands. “Besides, it can get quite boring when everyone does what you tell them.”
“Speaking from experience?” You inquired, peering up as you collected the files from the floor.
“I had the whole Earth on their knees once upon a time.” He told you, darkness reigniting in his eyes as you stood.
“And then let me guess…” You fawned thought as he way watched you with narrowed eyes. “A certain someone spoiled your fun?” He huffed in response, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics as you placed the files back in their rightful place.
“Speaking of… Still no sign of your dear Doctor.” He mused. “Oh-“ He furrowed his brows, tilting his head. “You don’t think she…” He began, biting his lip dramatically. “She’s dead, so you?” He said softly as you sent him a glare. “Or maybe even worse… Maybe she forgot about you.” He added, causing you to ignore him. “Besides, she’s got her other pets to play with.” He shrugged, sniffing.
“It won’t work.” You told him, placing a hand on your hip. “Everything you’re saying, I’ve already talked myself out of thinking.” You said sternly. “Trust me, I’m my own worst enemy.”
“Aren’t we all?”
So call the mainland from the beach
All parties now washed up in bleach
The waves are rising for this time of year
And nobody knows what to do with the heat
Under sunshine pylons, we'll meet
While rain is falling like rhinestones from the sky
The two of you were trudging through the wet, muddy trail in the woods, as you wrapped your jacket closer to your body, hearing the squelching under your feet of the mud. You were burning a hole in the back of The Masters head with your eyes, annoyed he was dragging you through the cold.
“Stop that.” He ordered you. “I can feel your stare as you try to pop my head with it.”
“Why the hell are we doing this?!” You exclaimed, exasperated. “Couldn’t we have just landed here in the TARDIS? I’m sure you’re doing this just to-“ Before you could finish, he spun round, clasping a hand over your mouth as he pulled you with him to hide behind a nearby tree. You narrowed your eyes at him as you shoved his hand away. “What are you-“ You questioned, but he once again covered your mouth, shhing you. You began to hear footsteps stomping close by, your eyes widening as you realised you were hiding from someone. Or something. Holding your breath subconsciously, you watched as something passed you both. Moving his hand from your mouth, you peered round the tree, seeing the short figure stomp off into the distance. You furrowed your brows as The Master finally stepped out.
“What was that?” You asked, voice still quiet.
“A sontaran.” He told you. “A lone sontaran. Usually they travel in fleets. Which means, either they aren’t too far behind or no one’s coming.” You stepped out beside him.
“I’m guessing by your reaction they aren’t the friendly type?” You asked as he smirked.
“For me, they are playmates, for you…” He paused, looking at you. “They’re sharks.”
“Right…” You nodded slowly. “So you’re telling me you saved me?” He glared at you.
“No-“ but you cut him off.
“Admit it, you saved me.”
“Will you-“
“The big bad Master saved me.”
Before he could argue, a laser beam hit a tree beside you, as you flinched. Looking up, you both spotted the sontaran heading towards you, aiming his gun in your direction.
“You and your big gob.” The Master muttered, grabbing your hand as he turned on his heel, pulling you with him as he ran. You looked at him offended.
“My big gob?!” You exclaimed, yelping as another shot hit just next to you. “Why’s it shooting at us?!”
“Because it thinks we’re here to challenge it!” He exclaimed.
“That’s why we’re here isn’t it?!” You gasped as he smirked to himself, before another shot came towards you both, causing him to push you back, him following as you both fell onto the ground. Landing with a thump, you groaned to see him laying on top of you. “Was that really necessary?!” You glared at him.
“What? Thought we could have a roll around in the shrubbery.” He commented, smirking as you felt your face grow warm. Before you could make a retort, he lifted himself up, reaching into his pocket as he grabbed his TCE. You looked up, seeing the sontaran stood behind him, holding the gun.
“Master!” You called as he quickly spun, zapping the sontaran as he shrunk him down.
“Sonta-Ha.” The Master said, grinning as he leant down to pick up the tiny alien. You scrambled to your feet, as you dusted yourself off the best you could, still covered in wet mud and leaves. He turned to see you, looking unimpressed. “You’ve got something-“ He gestures to your head as you glared at him, pushing him out the way as you walked past him.
A clear target in the summer when skies are blue
It's part of the noise when winter comes
It reverberates in my lungs
Nature's corrupted in factories far away
Here we go again
That's electric
Your love's like rhinestones falling from the sky
Walking back into the control room, you were freshly out the shower, wearing some new, nice warm clothes. The Master had made you walk back to the TARDIS also in the rain and mud, which you were less than pleased about. Luckily for him, he didn’t get too dirty considering you broke his fall.
“Ah much better.” The Master commented from the console as he looked at you. “Whatever you did before wasn’t working for you.” You pulled a face at him at his joke, causing him to smile.
“You’re such an ass.” You told him as he simply watched you in amusement. “All that so you could add a little miniature sontaran figure to your collection?” You narrowed your eyes as he clicked his tongue.
“You have your hobbies, I have mine dear.” He told you, causing you to shake your head.
“Maybe you should get some new ones.” You quipped. “How about painting? Or collecting stamps? Or even bird watching?” You offered, teasingly as he laughed.
“I’d rather die.” He answered.
“You’re so dramatic!” You laughed at him as he took a bow.
“And don’t you forget it.”
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thestalwartheart · 1 year
Note
One word prompt— Q with “puppy” 🙏🏼
Ohohohoho! Thank you for this one!!! It was an absolute delight to fill! You can read it below or on AO3.
Enjoy! 💖
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puppy.
It’s eight am, and Q isn’t nearly awake enough for this.
Bond’s in a warehouse in Hamburg, retrieving an enemy hard drive. As usual, he’s only listening to Q’s instructions with half an ear. Though, admittedly, that's still half an ear more than some of the other agents.
“007, I said left.”
“I know what you said,” snaps Bond under the heavy rat-tat-tat of bullets. “I’m taking a shortcut.”
“A deadly one, by the sounds of it,” sighs Q. “All right. I’m mapping you a new exit route.”
“Hang on a minute. There’s something I need to take a look at.”
Q flicks his eyes to the timestamp on his screen. “What part of ‘this building will explode in ten minutes’ did you not understand?”
“The part where I’m meant to ignore innocent lives trapped in it.”
“Oh! Is there—? Shit. I’m not reading anyone else nearby. Hang on, why can’t I read anyone else?”
Most of the cameras inside the building have been shot out, either deliberately or through collateral damage. Q is flying blind at the moment, and he hates it. He listens greedily to any sounds that make their way down the line, and wishes fervently that he'd sent Bond in with some sort of heat-seeking technology to give them more information. As it is, all Q can hear is some frantic rustling and another hail of bullets, thankfully further away than the last. A moment later, he hears Bond shushing someone, telling them everything will be all right.
Despite himself, Q can feel his chest warming in the way it often does when Bond’s kindness shines through. He smiles briefly, though he stops when he catches some of his staff looking a bit moony-eyed over the whole encounter.
“We have an agent in the middle of a delicate extraction,” Q says to the room, briefly muting his end of the comms line. The last thing any agent needs is the ego boost of knowing he’s distracted the whole branch. “I’d appreciate everyone’s full attention on the task at hand.”
“Yes, Sir,” comes the responding chorus.
“Good.”
“In your own time, Q,” interrupts Bond, finally ready to move and sounding half amused, half exasperated.
Q’s tempted to keep Bond hanging just for that, but the sound of bullets is growing both louder and more insistent now. Besides, there’s a casualty to contend with, and they don’t deserve to be caught up in one of his and Bond’s usual competitive nonsense. He scans the building's blueprints and Bond’s location as quickly as he can.
“Got it. Thirty meters straight ahead, left and then the second right. If you make it out the correct exit, you should find your new car waiting for you.”
“The DB10?”
“Jaguar F-Type. I’m afraid you blew the year’s budget for anything higher-end while you were in La Paz.”
“It’s only August.”
“Ah, so you've heard about the concept of a financial year. And yet, you destroyed the car anyway.” Q stabs the return key with more force than intended. “Take it up with Accounting.”
Bond huffs in discontent, then groans in a worrying way.
“Bond. Are you quite all right?”
“Bloody marvellous,” he grunts.
“Not too bloody, I hope.”
Bond doesn’t answer. Over the next few minutes, it’s only because of his occasional ragged breathing that Q is aware he’s alive at all.
Q fixes his eyes on the screen showing the door at the end of Bond’s exit route. Every second that ticks by without Bond emerging scrapes against his nerves. His heart rate will be through the roof by the end of this, and he daren’t think about his blood pressure.
Actually, it’s probably in no small part due to Bond that Q found a grey hair at his temple the other day. He’s sure he'll find a few more after today's antics. It's always Bond's missions that do him in like this. He'd spend more time questioning why his other agents' missions don't seem nearly as stressful, but he already knows the answer to that.
(At least Bond, for now, seems blissfully unaware of the regard in which Q holds him. Though worryingly, he might be the only one who's unaware of it.)
“Four minutes and counting, Sir,” calls one of his techs behind him.
“Bond?” calls Q. “Where are you? I needn’t remind you time is of the — oh. There you are.”
“Here I am,” replies Bond, sliding into the car. Q can see his cheeky, roguish smile even through the terrible quality of the CCTV.
For a moment, he’s so relieved to see Bond alive with no blood trail behind him that he doesn’t register the bundle in Bond’s left arm. When he does, it renders him speechless until Bond has safely driven away. By the time he’s himself again, Q’s whole department has cottoned onto what’s happening, and they’re cooing at the soft sounds coming through the room’s microphone.
“007. If you’re about to tell me that you risked your life and the safety of that hard drive to pick up a dog—”
Bond scoffs. “I wasn’t about to tell you anything. I’m well aware you can judge the situation for yourself. And there are two of them, by the way.” In a voice that’s far too soft for Q’s frayed nerves, he says, “They’re only pups.”
The whispers around Q increase in volume, and there’s an undignified squeak from somewhere at the back of the room. Not for the first time in this job, he wishes he had a mute button for his technicians.
“You could have been killed,” hisses Q, glaring at the blue symbol representing Bond's tracker.
“I had the situation in hand. If those bastards wanted rid of me, they’d have needed to try much harder than that.”
“Your faith in yourself is certainly admirable,” says Q, waspishly, “But you’re not indestructible, Bond.” During Bond’s rather petulant-sounding lack of response, another thought occurs to Q. It's one that has him imagining murdering Bond himself. “By the way, that Jaguar you’re sitting in is brand new. If you get back and it’s covered in dog hair…or worse—”
“It’ll be the least destructive thing I’ve done to a car in years.”
Q sighs, knowing full well that’s true. He shoots a withering look at the group of engineers who have pulled up a still from some earlier CCTV shots, showing Bond holding a rifle in one hand and two puppies in the other.
For heaven’s sake. At least Q knows who he’ll be putting on clean-up duty.
“Right. You clearly have no more need for my assistance, so I’ll leave you to it.”
He pauses, trying to refrain from giving his usual praise lest it sends the message he endorses this sort of life-endangering, stray-rescuing behaviour. Unfortunately, just as he can never exit a set of bus doors without thanking the driver, he can’t hang up on an unscathed, victorious agent without saying congratulations on a job well done.
“Well done, Bond. You have our thanks for saving the world once again.”
“My pleasure."
In the background, one of the puppies yips. Against all his instincts — he’s known widely around the office as a cat person, after all — Q smiles. His curiosity gets the better of him.
“Are you, erm...are you going to name them?”
Bond hums, and Q can hear the tease in it. “I was thinking Winston and Maggie.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Q groans. “You’re as bad as M.”
“Thank you, Q.”
Q doesn’t give him any further encouragement. He hangs up and shoos his staff away from admiring more of Bond's angles. It's hardly the first time he's had to break up a gossiping pack of staff after Bond's done something miraculous, or charming, or particularly tantalising. But today, horrifyingly, he hears someone mention a charity calendar and a fireman’s uniform.
Christ he needs a nap. Or a drink. A pay rise, definitely.
In the end, he simply gets back to work.
Bond, however, isn’t quite finished with him for the day. During Q’s lunch hour, he receives a message with a picture containing two German Shepherd puppies. Their disproportionately large ears sit at a jaunty angle on their heads, which are cocked adorably to the side. Behind them stretches a verdant, bright apple orchard, so they’re most likely enjoying some time in the Altes Land. Unbelievably, they seem to have acquired harnesses and collars in the three hours since Q glimpsed them last, and Bond seems to have acquired some new gear too. To the side of the picture is a cut-off shot of Bond’s hand, which is holding a neon orange ball.
How about Jeeves and Woofster? reads the text on his phone.
If Q smiles wider and laughs louder than he has all morning, well…he’s in the privacy of his own office. No one needs to know he's not just a cat person.
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